Extortion is a Noun
by BlackDawnYaoilover
Summary: Matthew, quiet an unnoticed at school, is suddenly "failing" classes at his prestigious highschool. Upperclassman Ivan is behind it and blackmailing him into staying with him each night for a "study session". Matthew never wanted this, he just wanted someone to notice him, now he has to deal with this crazy fool. Rated MA for sexual scenes, cussing and child abuse
1. Chapter 1

Matthew Williams. Blonde, strands like lemon tea with milk, reflecting a vague gold when hit just right. Somewhat messed, but definitely soft. Blue eyes, gentle, sky-colored, generous; smiling- glint a darker, more royal hue when the light shines through them. Not pale, merely not tanned; smooth skin, without blemish, only the occasional freckle. Trimmed nails, thin fingers, fragile structure and shy features- firm, lean muscled; unexpected.

Ivan sits at a lunch table of his peers, scrawling in a notebook. It's been a while since he first noticed the younger boy, but only today has he decided to document his findings. Surprisingly, once researched, it served to show that Matthew is actually quite intelligent and holds an impressive grade point. Even when it comes to standardized testing, he comes in the top 25 without fail. No paperwork on him, only awards and certifications and instructor commentary stating his involvement. They don't seem to notice him as much since there are other, priority students, but Ivan absolutely did. Rather, he can't seem to not notice the kid anymore. The question has become: How do I get him?

Logically, as he comes within the top 10 students (generally the top 3, but that's an unimportant detail), it makes sense that he could be in a lucrative position to take Matthew under his wing in the correct circumstances. The plan, then, is to create those circumstances and utilize them. Sure, Ivan could approach the boy, but that's not what he wants- he wants dominance and submission. It's pleasure on occasion to watch certain individuals cower, but more than any of that, he has an innate, building need to see what expressions Matthew will makes when he realizes what is happened, when he recognizes that fighting is futile, and then when the expression twists in plea-

"Oh no, have you guys heard? Apparently Matthew in 1-A is in trouble! I just overheard the principal talking to his teacher! I guess this quarter his grades haven't been so good and now they're considering dropping his enrollment!" Ivan has to put in actual effort not to smile.

"Shhh, he's right there!"

"Uh oh, do you think he heard?"

Of course, Ivan has already discussed his tutoring the Canadian with his homeroom teacher, and the instructor claimed she would inform the principal. It's only a matter of time- during the next period, Ivan should be called into a meeting with Matthew and his teachers to discuss involvement.

Collecting his things as the first bell rings, he stands calmly and begins walking casually, some students trailing behind him. His heart is racing and his body is warming- There is zero regret in him for potentially ruining a child's life.

Matthew was shocked, utterly and completely blown away. There wasn't any logical way his grades could have slipped this badly! He'd had perfect A's for the last two semesters! Now he was below failing and he was going to be kicked out. How could things have gotten this bad without him knowing? He reviewed every grade and went over it with a fine-toothed pick to see where he went wrong and how he could do better the next time.

He couldn't see how the little slip of paper he held in his hands, trembling though they may be, could be telling the truth. Blue eyes shone brighter than normal as he tried to hold back frustrated tears. He was going to be kicked out and he hadn't the slightest clue as to how it had happened!

When the thin blond overheard the boys talking about him, they probably didn't even notice him, he bit down harshly on his lip, trying to keep from crying before he got to a bathroom. His grades were everything to him. No one paid enough attention to him to notice any of his other exploits. Even when he tried going out for hockey, he'd been the best on the ice, but no one had noticed him. It had taken the coach calling his name three times while he waved his arms about from the back row before he noticed him. After that, and many other failed attempts at normal life, he had secluded himself to the knowledge that his grades were the only thing he could do himself that were of any importance and had dove into his schooling headfirst.

But now all his hard work was going down the drain and through the food processor and the only thing he could think of was a technological mistake. Maybe the teachers had forgotten him again and mistakenly put some other kid's grades under his name instead. That had to be it, some other slacker was benefiting from his misfortune and he only had to tell the principle and everything would be sorted out.

Even with this positive thought in mind, Matthew couldn't help but feel depressed that the only time everyone noticed him was when he was about to be expelled for failing. He tried to shrink in on himself as he walked to first period, the whispering and pointed fingers affecting him terribly since he wasn't used to them at all. Hopefully everything would go back to normal tomorrow.

Before Ivan even made it to class, he'd been invited to a meeting. He'd been informed that it was 'serious' and that he shouldn't speak about this to anyone. Nodding, he reminds them he's the student body president, and they feel a little more secure, smiling and laughing like they had worried for no reason. Really, they should give him more credit- he's not the person they think he is, but as long as the adults believe it, that's all that really matters, right?

In a room, there are three tables formed together to create a 'U'. In front of them, is a single seat- he assumes that Matthew will be sitting there. The principal and vice principal are seated in the center, followed by the boy's instructor's on the side. There is a seat for Ivan to the left of the vice principal and he takes it with ease. Folding both hands into his lap, he crosses his leg and sits back.

He is informed of the 'terrible' situation, and as the student body president he's required to sit in on these kinds of things as a student advocate. Nodding that he understands, he waits patiently until finally, shortly after the second bell Matthew enters. The teen is instructed to sit, and he does, and then the meeting begins.

The first thing said is a reminder of school policy, and that every parent and child has signed an agreement to keep their grades above a certain level. They show Matthew the document he personally signed and then ask him if there's anything he'd like to say for himself.

Matthew felt his stomach twisting in tight knots as they called him out of class. This was it. He had to tell them that it was all just a mistake and that he was doing fine in school. If only they'd given him the announcement sooner, then he could have gotten his past files and shown them, but they'd only told him that morning. Maybe they would let him prove it and bring the papers the next day.

He sits through the principle and teachers telling him that he violated the school policy and felt a bit of anger boil in his stomach. How dare they! He was one of the best students here! He was always on time and never skipped.

"I don't know how your records are stating that I'm failing, but I can assure you that my grades are nowhere near what you claim them to be." He spoke up in his quiet voice, slim hands clenched in the fabric on his uniform slacks. He hoped the teachers could hear him speaking. "If you'll allow me to bring in my papers, I can show you that the computers are wrong.

What if the teachers simply skipped over my name when they were putting in grades and put in someone else's grades? It's happened before, in middle school." Though not to such an extent.

"We can assure you, this is not the case, Matthew. We have copies of your homework and assignments here-" They pull out some fabricated documents, all with forged penmanship. Ivan spent quite some time making those, he didn't want to risk anyone stating that they 'didn't recognize the handwriting', so he'd studied up on it and specific attention to the curvatures.

"These were in a locked file cabinet that very, very few people have access to. Actually, only the people in this room do." Ivan wants to laugh. His face remains calm, and he is taking notes. It's normal for him to witness such activities- he's been included in panels before- so he knows the appropriate way to act.

"It's unfortunate, because you score high on standardized testing. It actually calls in to question how you score so high when your grades are so low. We're going to have to terminate your-"

"If I may?" Ivan is sitting upright, looking highly respectable. The principal falls silent and turns to him, curious as to what the intention behind the interruption could be.

"Yes, go ahead."

"Given Matthew's test scores, would you consider placing him instead on a disciplinary probation for thirty days? It's not unheard of- I recall another student being given the same opportunity as long as they were under supervision of an upperclassmen tutor."

The principal nods, then.

"Yes, but given the time of year, and that Matthew is a second year, that only leaves third years who are preparing for college exams. It's not plausible."

Ivan smiles softly then and motions to himself.

"I would volunteer. I'm free in the evenings."

The other instructor's all seem a bit shocked, as do both principal's, and after a moment of speaking among themselves, the principal turns to Matthew.

"Then you will be assigned to meet with your student body president in the evenings." As if he didn't listen or hear anything Matthew had to say, the teachers all stand and begin to exit.

"We will excuse ourselves, you two stay behind to determine when and where you will meet. Your tardy will be excused."

Matthew's jaw dropped when he saw the papers, red marks standing out brilliantly and all filled with /his/ handwriting. But that couldn't be possible! He had never scored so low! And if he even got close to that he would redo it! Someone must have been framing him, but who would go so far just to get him expelled? No one noticed him, he wasn't top of his class or outstanding in any way other than his grades. What motive would they have?

How dare they call his test scores into question, he had studied long and hard for those tests! No one was going to void his scores! When the topic of an upperclassman tutor came up, he felt the sting of frustrated tears in the corners on his eyes and he clenched his hands tighter in his slacks, feeling the crisp fabric crinkle under his grasp. How dare they try to insinuate that he needs a tutor! He knew more than half the teachers at this meeting apparently, because they couldn't even remember what grades they had given him!

Matthew fumed in his seat silently, blue eyes darting to each of the teachers as they spoke about his options as if he weren't even there. They can't decide something like that without even consulting him. The boy allowed himself a dark glare at their backs as they filed out of the room, gritting his teeth together as he held himself still to keep his shoulders from shaking in anger.

When it was just the two of them, Ivan continued writing something for a while, taking his time. He didn't want to seem too eager, except for that he was thrilling with excitement. Wow, had he really just gotten away with that? Trying to calm himself, he waits until he doesn't feel like he's about to burst out laughing and then he folds both hands patiently atop the table.

"I have student body meetings until 5pm, but after that I'm available. We could meet here at the school, or at our homes, I suppose." Flipping a couple pages, he looks over some notes he took prior and then glances back up.

"Once I heard about your predicament, I looked through some files from previous students and it seems that the tutor was required to log hours. You are supposed to be spending a minimum of five with me- one for each weekday." It's so hard to not just confess and say he was the one who did it, and then demand things. He has everyone convinced Matthew should be kicked out, and really, Ivan is the boy's connection here. He could likely easily manipulate the kid into things.

Smiling, trying to seem friendly, he closes his book and buttons it closed.

"I was surprised to discover that we live across the street from one another. I wonder why I've never seen you?"

Matthew stared at the other's white hair, bent over his notes as he wrote, boring holes into his skull. He had something to do with this, why else would he offer up his time so quickly? He could have just let him be expelled and that would be that. He didn't need to help the boy. What was he up to?

He listened to the other boy speak, anger growing inside his chest at how calm and confident the other seemed. The blond was almost thrown out and he was sitting there smiling like they were old friends? How arrogant.

"How should I know?" Matthew snapped quietly, not in the mood for idle small talk. "How long do I have to deal with this nonsense?" He wasn't one for dicing questions. "I want to get this done as quickly as possible and be done with it." It wasn't his fault someone had so obviously framed him and wanted to make his life a hell.

Mr. Williams did not appear to be in a good mood. Rather, he seemed to be pretty pissed off; understandably so. Ivan would be all sorts of furious if something similar happened. However, he doesn't feel bad, because this is Matthew's fault. If he hadn't distracted Ivan then this never would have happened. Really, this is punishment. No, this was fair.

"As was stated earlier; 30 days. We'll be spending 150 hours together until your probation ends." Regardless of what he wanted to say, he was aware that a confession on school property was pretty much asking for trouble. If it came down to it, he'd make sure to be honest in the comfort of his own home, where he knew no one could possibly overhear.

Collecting his things, he rises from his seat and pulls a piece of paper out of his journal. Folding it, he tucks it into Matthew's outer breast pocket and continues with his plastered smile.

"Nice talk. See you at 5:30. Try and be a little more civil then, da?"

Matthew glared at the other boy as he spoke, annoyed at his entire being. He didn't want to waste one hundred and fifty hours with this guy over the next month, what kind of insanity was that?

The blond smacked the other's hand away, scowling for the first time. "Don't touch me in such a familiar way." He snapped, stepping away from him, already irritated at him and his cheerful manner. "And I'll be as much of an asshole as I wish." It was the first time he had cussed on school ground, but he felt the time called for it. He twisted around and yanked his messenger bag off the ground with a soft huff, pulling it over his head and stalking out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him loudly, the only thing about him that got above the sound of quiet conversation.

He stalked down the hall, finally able to ignore the stares from the other students. He was just too pissed at what'shisname, though he didn't know exactly why he was so mad at him, maybe his subconscious knew something he didn't.

Ivan could only laugh when Matthew appeared to be having a fit. He didn't really care if the kid minded, nor did he care if he liked it. Most people would kill to spend even a fraction of time with Ivan- it made this all the more entertaining. He didn't need a willing party, never did. Even as Matthew rudely exited, Ivan called a "5:30!" reminder and chuckled softly to himself. It was almost too much to bear- God, he just wanted Matthew to know and look at him with hate-filled eyes. His arousal stirred at the idea but he calmed himself before exiting also.

There should be no surprise when Ivan is able to obtain Matthew's home phone number. Anyone with it was eager to offer it up, and those who didn't have it wish they did. It was a teacher, actually, who provided the digits. In private, of course, within the man's office. He took time during lunch to make sure and call the boy's home, informing the parent who answered that due to some unfortunate circumstances, Matthew will be required to attend tutoring for an hour each night. When he is assured that Matthew will be there, Ivan thanks them respectfully and hangs up.

It feels like class takes forever, and when school ends, he proceeds to the student body office, where the rest of the officers are. He is asked right away if he has something to do with the recent almost expulsion, and he only smiles softly and asks that they begin soon because he has other matters to attend to.

The meeting concludes at 4:37pm and he is on his way home. It is 5:04pm when he steps into the shower and 5:17pm when he is tidying up his room. There are the general snacks and drinks on the table, as well as two assignment pads and pencils. As much studying as there won't be, he needs to at least attempt to make it seem like there was an intention.

Waiting by the stairs, he is playing on his phone. He is dressed in casual wear, which includes a gray tank top with a racer back and a pair of black sweat pants. His hair is dry and brushed neatly by now, and he waits patiently for the knock.

Matthew fumed throughout the rest of the school day, ignoring taking notes in favor of doodling a faceless man that he took his rage out on. Not that the teachers noticed he wasn't paying attention.

With the knowledge of his sidetracked expulsion, the students around him were whispering about the mysterious kid that was failing in their prestigious school. Of course less than half of them realized that he was the kid, much less that he was actually in their class.

When the bell rang he was one of the first out the door, having skipped unpacking just because he hadn't paid attention throughout the whole of his classes. He hurried home, wondering how to break the news to his father of his near disaster. He unlocked the door and eased it open slowly, peeking into the living room.

"What the hell is this I hear about you flunking out?" A gruff voice called from the kitchen. Matthew stilled and bit his lip. Oh hell, someone's already called. Why could this be another time everyone never noticed him?

"Um, i-it's not really that. I just have to take tutoring as a stud-"

"Don't give me that shit. I know you're failing, you little shit. Get in here." Matthew flinched, slowly heading into the kitchen. He father stood beside the table, a beer in hand and hateful eyes turned on him. "I let you go to that pansy school because you got a scholarship and begged and pleaded. Now you turn around and flunk out?"

"I-it wasn't me, someone else flunked out and they put his grades under my name." Matthew stammered, staring up at his father with large eyes. "T-they're just making me take the tutoring just as a precaution."

"Don't try to feed me that shit." He snarled, lashing out with his hand. The blow caught Matthew in the jaw and he fell back onto the floor. The boy gently touched his aching jaw. "Get your ass over to that little shit's house and do your fucking studying before I kick your ass."

Matthew nodded mutely, scurrying out of the house and catching his breath outside the door. His heart pounded against his ribcage and tears pricked his eyes. His jaw ached, but he hoped that it wouldn't swell, he still had to go to Ivan's and "study".

It was another ten minutes before he could gather the courage to step away from the door, fear that his father would leave the house chasing him across the road. It was 5:50 before he knocked on the other boy's door.

At 5:30, Ivan decided the boy ought to have a good explanation. From what he's gathered from the women on the street, Matthew's father has quite the temper. The first installment of his plan was to make his own home safer than Matthew's, by default making the kid wish to spend more time there. Naturally, Ivan would have to avoid hitting the boy, otherwise it wouldn't really matter where the younger student hid out.

By 5:40, he was in the kitchen preparing a rice bag for each of them to place in their lap. Heating them both took six minutes, and as he rested back on the stairs, it was only a matter of patience and then he was rising to respond to the knock. Smiling, he opens and visibly falters as he spots the reddening at Matthew's jaw. Hm. It seems he should have prepared an ice pack. Gesturing for the kid to enter, he glances around and then closes and locks the door. There was an innate predatory feeling as he considers the swelling- he is upset that someone is interfering in his game; Matthew is his to torture.

"Welcome. Wait here just a moment," and he turns, entering the kitchen. Obtaining a wash cloth and creating a bag of ice, he slips the latter into the former and offers it out as he nods up the stairs. He may seem cruel, but he wonders if maybe the more polite thing is not to ask; the answer is obvious.

Guiding the boy up, he opens his door and flicks the light on. His room is plain, almost like one in those houses for sale. There is hardly anything personal- like a motel. Nice, metal furniture, followed by a groomed carpet and bed. Even his blinds are neat and dusted. Indicating to the seats, he leaves the one closest to the bed open and sits neatly on his heels. Setting the warm rice bag out to the side, he mumbles a 'help yourself' as he motions to the snacks and then flips his notebook open. He hopes, in the back of his mind, that Matthew does not notice he could probably see into the other boy's room from here.

"Please, have a seat."

Matthew felt his stomach turn when Ivan answered the door and his face darkened. So it had started swelling. His suspicion was confirmed when the older boy returned with a rag wrapped around ice and he took it quietly, following him up the stairs to his room. He sighed softly, wondering how things could get any worse for him right now.

He glanced around the room, naturally curious to his new surroundings. Such a sterile environment. Where were all his mementos and trinkets? Matthew's room was covered in his drawings and pictures he had taken. But here...there was just nothing.

He sat down uneasily, letting his book bag fall to the side. He didn't pull out anything and he didn't partake in the drinks and snacks, he wasn't sure he could stomach food right now. The ice was cold even through the rag as he pressed it to his sore jaw and he kept his eyes on the clean carpet instead of looking up at the other boy.

Was he supposed to try and bond or something? With the dismissive wave coming off Matthew, Ivan was struggling to pursue the right course of action. Should he relate? Discuss something they might both possibly have in interest? He researched Matthew, so of course he could at least pretend that he was interested in some of the same things. There was something more pressing.

Without looking up, he keeps his eyes on the textbook.

"You have to be who they want." Matthew obviously knows that, but Ivan has some special experience in this area, so he elaborates. "How you think or feel doesn't matter, you have to tell them what they want to hear. They like it when you tell them you're pathetic. Especially you, Mr. Williams, who no one listens to." His eyes flicker up then and he inspects the other boy's face. Strong kid, stronger than Ivan expected at least. That makes it more interesting.

"Let me get to the point, hm?" Passing his notepad across the table, Matthew's name is written- in the Canadian's handwriting. This is the most confession he will be offering.

"Your scores will be corrected in 150 hours, this whole thing will be forgotten." He was working on something in his lap, not bothering to acknowledge he had someone else in the room.

Matthew sat quietly, waiting for the other to say something first. He was used to being quiet, ignored for the most part. So this was all taken in stride. What was he waiting for? They only had an hour and already five minutes had passed.

For a while he didn't know what the boy was talking about, but it sort of dawned on him and then he showed him the notebook, his own name written in what appeared to be his own handwriting. Fury boiled up inside him and he clenched his hands tightly in his lap, eyes darting up to Ivan. So he had been right, it was him who had sabotaged him. How dare he. What did he do to him to deserve this? He had never messed with anyone, why target him? Maybe he was just some sadist who liked fucking around with peoples' futures.

"What do you want?" Matthew asked coldly, getting straight to the point, staring at the top of the other's head. "What is your purpose?"

"One day when I was doing roll-call, I saw a name I didn't recognize. At first I was surprised how I didn't even notice you, but then I realized that no one else did, either. I initially asked a classmate of yours about you, and they just asked 'who?', like you hadn't been sitting with them all year." Still focused on his paper, he doesn't let on that he is writing down the main points of their conversation. He wants to reflect on it later and study the implications. People are fickle, and he was determined to memorize who Matthew was from the inside out.

"After a while, I felt good that only I noticed you, because then it was like we were in our own special world." Ivan will admit it sounds crazy, but this is when he glances up with a straight face. He is absolutely serious.

"I wondered what it would take for people to look at you. It took near-expulsion. I wonder why, you're not unattractive. I want to learn about you. Besides, what better thing have you to do than study or hide in your room to avoid that father of yours?" Crossing his arms, he leans against the wall and scrawls a picture of Matthew's desk.

"It's an infatuation- You should just let me do what I want; humor me. Eventually, I'll become bored. I always do. You'll only be fun until you're just like everyone else." Cocking his head, he nods towards the boy, indicating the bruise.

"Do you ever try to think up excuses for those? I mean, nobody ever asks, but do you?"

Matthew stared at the boy as he explained why he was doing such a thing and he couldn't help but want to punch him. "So you're making me go through hell just because my invisibility made me noticeable to you? You're only fucking with my life because I'm interesting to you?"

What the fucking, bloody, maple-sucking, moose-humping, hockey-hating, motherfucking hell? "You nearly got me expelled just to see if anyone would notice? What right do you have to frame me and nearly get me kicked out of a school I've been studying to go to for years?" Throughout his entire rant his voice never seemed to rise above a loud whisper, even though his cheeks had gotten rather red with anger.

"I don't know you. I don't know why you're so infatuated with me, but this is ridiculous. And my familial status is of no concern of yours. I wouldn't even have pissed him off today if it wasn't for you!" How dare he question his daily life when he was the one that had made his father untouchable today? "You can go fuck yourself." He said with venom, knuckles white where they were clenched in his lap.

He wasn't going to be some lab rat for a demented kid next door that wanted to poke him around and see what made him tick for fun.

"Yeah, except for I don't care?" Everything was summed up into that one little sentence. Did Ivan seem like the type who would trifle in some unimportant matter, such as a random person's feelings? If he bothered or had any hint of concern for how Matthew felt, he wouldn't have done this to begin with. Logically.

"Regardless of whether it's for curiosity, or even if I had some other sort of feelings for you, it doesn't mean anything. You're here with me until your time is up, or I deem you fit to exit the tutoring program. Or, I mean, unless you want to start failing tests and show them my help isn't working, but that will hurt you far more in comparison." Shrugging, he glances around his room, taking note of how it makes him seem; cold and uncaring. Really, he kind of it- ruthless, even. But Matthew seems to misunderstand his value placed on this particular situation.

"There's no good reason to do this to you, so no matter what I say, it's unacceptable. But... I am. You should cope. I can help you, if you'd like."

Matthew watched the other boy for a while longer, his gaze sharper than a piece of broken glass. "You are a despicable human being." He said after some time, voice soft.

Honestly! He was fucking with him for no good reason other than curiosity! Though, isn't that what all science was based around? Only he wasn't an experiment and Ivan was messing with his very real future. He'd have to muddle through this shit to be able to get his grades back up to pristine order where they belonged.

Or he could simply flunk enough to make the upperclassman seem like a horrible tutor. Though it wouldn't help his reputation any it would help him get back at the asshole.

"So what are we supposed to do for an hour seeing as you know full and well that I don't need tutoring?" Matthew asked, leaning back on the chair legs.

There's a slight smile that begins before he squashes it down. What would they do?

"You can talk for an hour." Shrugging, he knew that he only really cared about getting to learn about Matthew and beyond that, he hadn't any expectations. Nothing too sinister, or too illegal, for that matter. Setting all chair legs on the ground, he slipped out of the chair as he walked over to his bed. Climbing onto it, he rests on his back, crossing both arms over his abdomen.

"It can be about anything. Even about how horrible I am. For one hour." Glancing to the side, he notes the time. "Forty-seven minutes today."

Closing his eyes now, he settles, comfortable. He doesn't need to explain anything, doesn't offer any further comments. Instead, he waits in silence- gesturing once with his hand for Matthew to begin already.

Matthew scowled at the other boy, twisting around to watch him sprawl out on his bed. Insolent ass. He wasn't going to just jabber away like he was at some therapist's office.

The blond turned back around, pulling his notebook out and tearing a sheet out paper out of his binder messily, something he would normally avoid doing. He scribbled "Asshole" on the top half and tore it off, crumpling it up and tossing it over his shoulder at the boy. "Ignorant jerk" was written on the next one before it was tossed over his shoulder.

He wasn't going to talk about anything for the next hour, why should he when the other boy had just about ruined his life single-handedly.

Silence continued, and then after some time, he felt something or other tap his body. He wanted to laugh. Matthew was precious; childish. Grinning, he rolls onto his side, resting chin on his palm. Enjoying the view- a snotty brat rebelling- and winks.

"If you wanted my attention, you got it. Do you want me to talk instead? Or... Maybe he'd prefer to do something else?" His tone was playful- never how he would act at school, definitely. There was no way he could get away with that. Rather, he would be judged and looked down upon and none of the way necessary. He only needed to be what they expected and nothing more.

"We could do things without words." Of course, it was a joke, so he drops back against the mattress and picks up a booklet. Looking to the clock, he motions to the paper in his hands.

"If you don't want to do it, I could just not sign for today. Maybe when you're ready, you can come back."

Matthew sighed, feeling that he wasn't going to get very far with the other. He leaned forward against the table, keeping his back to the other and ignoring his annoyingly playful attempts to get him to speak or respond. Why couldn't he just be normal? Then he wouldn't have "done" anything to draw the boy's attention.

Of course he had to bring up the sheet. If he didn't sign for one hundred fifty hours then he would have broken his probation and he'd be expelled. "What is it that you want?" He asked again, wondering if the answer would change any this time around. Maybe if he got the other to talk he could just ignore him and draw or something.

That sounded preferable, drawing with white noise in the background as he whittled away an hour that he wasn't spending with his father.

"Wow, maybe it's a good thing you're coming to tutoring, because you could definitely learn a little about how to listen, huh?" It was becoming clear that Matthew wasn't going to go along with it, so he decided he would just find a worse alternative that Matthew likely would enjoy less. Reaching, he picks up one of the novels at his bed side; a harlequinn.

Tossing it onto the table, he closes his eyes.

"Then you can just read aloud. If talking is so difficult for you, then I offer this instead. That's all I'm willing to adjust." Perhaps if Matthew got bored, he might actually do as asked.

"Don't forget to alter your voice when reading the woman role."

Matthew looked at the book as if it were a pile of dung. "Why on earth do you have a romance novel?" He asked, wondering how many facets this guy had. "What are you, into kinky medieval romance or something?"

The book was nothing too interesting in itself, just a cheap paperback that had been produced in Canada. He poked around a little, reading the back and trying not to laugh at the predictable storyline. "Why would you buy this thing anyways, it's so cliché."

"Why on Earth are you so quick to judge others?" His tone was level, and more than anything, sounded uninterested. The quip was simple, with no particular emphasis at all. It was fascinating to see how Matthew recoiled to the situation and even more than that, it was fun to watch him slowly open himself up- regardless of whether it was in a friendly manner. This was acceptable; Ivan prefers discord.

"Do you really care what I'm into?" There was an intentional lack of emotion in his voice when he asked. Ivan doesn't give two fucks how Matthew feels about his things or interests, it's not like he was asking permission. More importantly, he wasn't sure the kind of impression he gave, but the outcome had no impact on his life personally.

"Here, hand it back, little boys probably shouldn't be looking at those types of books anyway."

"Uh huh." Matthew said, not really paying attention to the other boy as he leafed through the book. "Hm, I wasn't sure people could bend like that." He commented, pulling a sketchpad out of his bag and a pencil. Still not giving a damn about the boy behind him, he reread the passage and tapped the eraser end of his pencil against his chin thoughtfully.

The he set the book aside and picked up his sketchpad, flipping to a fresh page. After staring at it for a few moments, tilting his head a little this way and that, he began drawing, the graphite tip barely touching the paper as his hand whisked along with careful speed and precision. The blond paused to chew on the body of the pencil for a moment, contemplating his sketch, before he tilted the pad a bit and continued drawing from another angle.

A soft hum left his lips as he drew, oblivious to the rest of the world aside from his pad.

Relaxing, calm on the bed, he decides that he should be patient- as long as Matthew becomes comfortable in the room, it's the most important. Really, he just needs the kid to recognize this place as a safe environment, as somewhere he could go and be okay, because he has every intention of taking advantage of that.

There was scritching sounds and he raises a brow, glancing to the smaller boy's back. What is he doing? Trying to draw the position he'd been referring to, or what? Sitting up, curious, he tilts his chin to see if he can get a look at the picture, but he can't. Slipping from the bed, he places a hand on the back of the chair as he leans.

"Hm, I didn't know you were an artist. You learn something new every day." Cocking his head, then glancing to Matt's hair, he smiles softly. Would it help to show some investment in the kid's personal interests?

"Do you have any with you?"

"Mm, no." Matthew said shortly, not taking his eyes off his sketch, a vaguely sexual picture of a man and a woman entwined together on a bed, the blankets flowing down from the sides. He didn't care if the other knew he was an artist or not, it wasn't like anyone else paid any attention to his drawings.

After a moment he paused to read the passage again and then begin adding smaller detail, the eyes, stray hairs, facial expressions. Of course, he did have some other drawings with him, he just wasn't going to freely show them off to the boy who nearly got him expelled. Seriously, what if they hadn't agreed to the tutoring? Then his plan would have backfired and Matthew would be back in a crummy public school because no other private school would take him again.

Blue eyes regarded what he had so far closely, and he used his slim fingers to smudge a little here or there, planning to add better shading later.

The dismissive attitude Matthew had was actually quite adorable. Although most might find themselves offended, Ivan doesn't bother holding back a smile. He does, however, with-hold a laugh, and he tucks that away internally for another time. This boy was too cute, really, it's a shame (and a blessing, perhaps) that no one else was able to appreciate it.

His eyes follow the curves of the woman's body, and then they stray off to Matthew's pencil- then his fingers, hand, and finally he's just looking to the blond mop. Reaching, he almost touches it, and then he pauses. He feels like he's the animal from Beauty and the Beast all of a sudden. It's awkward and unfulfilling. He doesn't need to be liked, and he doesn't need to like anyone, so he brushes off any possible admiration and shrugs.

"If you're not even going to do what you've been asked, then you can just go home and deal with your consequences there." Stepping back, he turns and walks to his closet. Opening the door, he pulls out a pair of shoes and nods to the exit of his bedroom.

"I'll walk you home."

"You've got to sign my slip first." Matthew said, cutting his eyes at the other boy before he turned back to his drawing. He was almost done, but that didn't mean he was going to leave without that signature. If he was going to be framed he was going to gotten out of this by the same boy.

"But I suppose if you plan on getting me expelled either way, then you don't have to." Honestly, he couldn't see the boy getting him expelled for real. He may have concocted this big scheme to get him alone, but it wouldn't benefit him in any way for the blond to be expelled. It wasn't like he challenged him for top student or student president.

"I'm not sure what you want from me, but you're not out to get me expelled." He told him, looking up from his pad. "It's not like I'm a threat to you or anything, so I'm not sure why you're trying to make me talk about myself and such."

"I think you don't realize who you're talking to? I could care less whether or not I actually got you expelled. You're only worth keeping around if you entertain me, which you aren't. So I don't really care what happens to you." Shrugging, he nods to the door again. The point was that he was giving Matthew the option to decide. 'Do you want to be expelled, or not?'

"Since you don't know what I 'want', then you should at least know that if you're not giving me the thing I 'want', you're useless to me. It doesn't matter why I'm asking you to talk, does it? Why wouldn't you just talk? I'm not asking you to do anything hard, you're just being stubborn and childish and while sure, I can understand why, I'm also the only one here who knows how little your future matters to me. You seem to think I'm a nice guy. A nice guy wouldn't have done this to you, and a nice guy wouldn't be planning to call your father once you leave and let him hit you again." His tone is dismissive, almost as though he might even be talking to himself, but he finally looks to Matthew near the end. It seems that while he spoke, he learned something about himself- Matthew is his and his alone, and he doesn't just want to hear him talk- he wants to know the most; be the closest.

"I never claimed you were a threat. I only ever gave the impression I was interested in you; do you want me to be unreasonable? I could write a letter to myself from you, threatening me. I could do anything, Matthew. What are you willing to do to stop me? Not even tell me about your day? Then deal with the consequences. I'm not a patient man- I'm doing this to you wrongfully, but everything else I've done has been fair. Talk, or get out."

Matthew listened, unimpressed by the speech. This boy loved to gab about himself. "I never said you were a nice guy, I just said it didn't seem like you to do things without a reason."

"Honestly, I don't see why you even chose me, I'm nothing too interesting in myself." He leaned back on the legs of the chair, balancing finely. "There are plenty of more interesting people at school, why not blackmail one of them? They'd probably be more fun to torture and junk." Maybe he should start practicing to change his handwriting. It would certainly help in the future if anything of this sort ever happened again. "I could also go up to the principle and ask him if I could redo my standardized tests. That would certainly get me out of this, as well as if I continue to ace my classwork and make sure my teachers record my grades properly."

Whatever was going on in that boy's skull was no concern of his if he could redeem himself alone. He knew he could ace all his tests, he'd done it before. Now all he had to do was prove it to the teachers and principle that he could do it.

And still, Matthew doesn't get up. This is becoming obnoxious. If Matthew doesn't want to play the game, then fine, that's up to him. If he wants to battle things on his own, then fine. It's up to him. It's not like this would lead back to Ivan anyway- he was careful. It would seem like a casual slip-up and then he'd be Scott-free anyway. Toys aren't always fun when you get to take them out of the box and play with them. He might just chalk it up to that.

Or he could play a little more.

"I don't do things without a reason." The tone was level, confident. He wets his lips and looks over the boy. What can he say that is both honest and also intriguing? Ivan couldn't have convinced this boy to be his friend without this endeavor, and as far as he knew, Matthew had never even looked his way; he had to do something.

"Standardized tests do not negate school work." Sighing, now finding this tedious and not even the least bit fun, he begins slipping on a jacket.

"I chose you because when you received a test back, you would have the slightest smile, and while I thought it was beautiful, not a single person noticed. I don't care if it makes sense to you." We bully the people we like. The idea passed through his head and he pondered on it for a moment.

However, as he stood there, the door opened downstairs and he shifted awkwardly. His name was called ('Vanya'), followed by a crashing sound and laughter. He was yelled at to come downstairs, then was asked whether he was sleeping, and he just stayed silent. When the sound moved on, he slowly eased the door shut and shook his head. No one was supposed to come home today.

"Perhaps we should just work on homework."

Matthew watched the other boy, one arm resting over the back rail of his chair as he listened to his explanation. He frowned slightly, waiting for his reply as he apparently thought about it. A simple nod off wasn't going to make him give up, he was going to fix this and earn his spot back at the school.

A pink blush covered his pale cheeks as the other confessed. Why had he even been watching him? No one ever like him, no one noticed him and when they did it was never good. His father noticed him and Ivan noticed him and so far neither were very good in his book. But to be complimented in such a way still make him heat up and his chair legs tapped back down quietly.

Then there was a sound downstairs and he naturally slipped back into his usual quiet form at the loud sounds, head down and hands clasped in his lap while he gnawed on his lip gently, worried about being noticed. He was shy around new people, especially grownups, but it wasn't as if they noticed him either way. They would ignore him whether he was hiding behind his father's shirt tails or shouting at them.  
Homework sounded fair, a welcome distraction that needed to be done anyway as he distantly wondered about the ruckus that was coming from downstairs.

As it was, Ivan was just hopeful that they could be quiet and no one would notice he was awake. The last thing he needed Matthew to see was his pitiable home-life, because God forbid the guy give him any kind of break. He wanted to be superior, didn't want to be looked down on. Even as he sits, the door swings open and he curses mentally. Glancing up, he takes in that his mother is completely intoxicated and he sighs. Without looking to Matthew, he rises again and seems to morph into yet another person.

"Mother, let me take you to bed, please, you-"

"Oh and who's this?" His voice is loud, all over the place. She's beautiful, but her personality does not reflect it; long red hair, curls at the end, and flawless skin- she wears an evening gown; black.

"This isn't that kid from across the street is it?" Ivan feels himself becoming upset, but he doesn't show it. His tone remains gentle.

"You're inebriated, we should at least get you some water-"

"This is, isn't it? How'd you get this cute little guy to hang out with a faggot? Does he know, Vanyaaaa, that you-"

"Mother, please, you're not well-"

"-probably fantasize about him at night?" Sighing, he finally almost wants to look back at Matthew but realizes that he can't make himself. This is all sorts of embarrassing.

"Does he know that daddy left because you're a disgusting child? Does he?" She wobbles and stumbles, and Ivan moves to catch her but she shoves him back. "Don't touch me! I don't want to be tainted."

Nodding, he waits patiently until she steadies herself and walks back to the door- one high heel missing.

"Oh- that kid you- Matthew right? That's his name, isn't it- Nice to meet you Matthew, you should run away before you catch a disease." And with that, she's laughing and walking back down the stairs, and he's at the door, closing it. That likely could have been worse, actually, he should thank his lucky stars. Of course, he takes a moment to regain composure and walks back to the table- he can only hope that Matt didn't catch that his mother knew his name without being told.

Returning to the table, he silently signs Matthew's paper in red ink and then slides it across to him.

"Tomorrow, eight o'clock. Please come prepared to talk then."

Matthew opened his mouth to say something as Ivan sat down, only to be interrupted by the door. He felt mild annoyance, wondering why he got cut off even when other people actually didn't know he was there. You'd think he'd get a break occasionally.

A beautiful woman, elegant in a black dress except for her obviously drunk state, stood in the doorway and Matthew looked up at her, his jaw glued together shyly. When she turned her eyes from her son and onto him, he dunked his head and let his bangs fall in front of his eyes. He was /not/ good with new people. He almost missed Ivan shifting from one persona to another.

Her words shocked him, initially because she thought he was cute, and mostly because she said that Ivan was gay. Of course she could have been just throwing cruel words around to injure him. Then she continued to say such words and Matthew just felt more and more embarrassed with the situation. He didn't know what to say so he just sat there, trying not to let his blush burn through his bangs, he kinda liked them.

How could she be so heartless, even if Ivan's father did leave? No wonder her son was blackmailing him, he certainly had enough background to warrant it. He wouldn't exactly claim it was nice to meet her, so he just kept quiet, his hands clenching in his lap at her words.

The blond nodded, taking the paper quickly and packing away his things in no time. He could barely look at the other boy, the situation was just too embarrassing. He glanced back at Ivan, nodding before fleeing the room as quickly as he could.

Matthew accepts the paper, but Ivan doesn't look at him, just keeps his eyes on the window and his back to the door. Nope, can't do it. This was turning into something he wasn't sure he could manage anymore, especially with that unexpected visit from his mother. When he hears the front door close, he clears his throat and takes in a deep breath. Turning, he pads in his socks down the stairs until he finds his mother in the kitchen passed out on the table.

Easing his arms around her, he lifts her in a princess carry and begins walking her to her room. She opens her eyes and looks at him and spits. Flinching, he doesn't say a word and sets her down in her bed, where she proceeds to curse at him in Russian and slap his head while he tucks her in. She cries, saying something about how no man will ever love her and it's his fault and he turns her light off and leaves the room. Waiting outside for a bit until her sobs die down, he feels it's safe to leave her alone.

At school the next day, Ivan went about his business like normal. He had to head to each class and hand out voting pamphlets for the next student council. As it was, he graduates this year, so he doesn't have to worry about being re-elected, which is a relief. He still has colleges and such to apply to, not to mention all the tests. Maybe he doesn't actually have time to blackmail someone for a month, this may have been poorly planned.

He is overly aware of himself when he enters Matthew's classroom. When the teacher moves aside for him to explain the purpose of the papers and how to fill them out, he then walks to the front of each row and passes the correct number of papers back. Asking if there are any questions, he answers a few and then he and the instructor share a joke, laugh, and he leaves.

Ivan didn't want to know if Matthew looked at him differently, so he merely goes about his business. How long will it be before the whole school knows? He hasn't been given any weird looks yet?

Matthew slipped into his house silently, the only sound the TV murmuring in the living room. He edged through the main hall, peeking around the corner cautiously. His father was passed out on the couch, light flickering across him as the images changed on the TV. A beer bottle dangled from his fingers, almost touching the carpet and Matthew crept along, a silent breath of relief ghosting out of his lips as he quietly ascended the stairs.

At least he wouldn't have to deal with him again tonight, his jaw still ached from the first time. He wouldn't tell Ivan, no matter how many times the boy asked him, but he did hide the bruises his father left on him. For the ones that had stopped swelling, he used cover-up he had bought with a few weeks of spare change stolen from the washer when he was doing laundry. If it was cold enough and he had a bruise on his jaw or neck then he wore a scarf to cover it up with.

The next day he lay awake in bed for nearly thirty minutes after he silenced his alarm clock, staring up at his cracked ceiling and sighing occasionally. Finally he got up and headed to school when he remembered that his father was an early riser even when he had been drinking the day before, not that it made his attitude any better.

At school he stared down at his textbooks sullenly, doodling absently as the teachers' lectures flew over his head. He knew this all already, a day or two wouldn't harm him any more than Ivan blackmailing him would. The boy didn't look up when "Mr. Student President" entered the room, but his pencil pressed down harder into his paper.

Lunch came and went and he picked at his food outside in the greens while the chatter of the other students washed over him. He didn't have an appetite, usually didn't after a fight with his father, if you could even call it that. Of course he got into 'fights' often with him, so his frame was slim and frail because if he forced himself to eat then he got sick and wasn't able to keep anything down.

He tossed his uneaten meal and the rest of the day passed in a blur until the final bell rang and he tapped down the front stairs of the school, murmuring apologies to students that bumped into him.

Ivan's day is casual, not exciting. Even as the end of school arrives, he can't believe that no one knows his mother is a drunkard and that his father has abandoned them. He'd kept those secrets hidden for years now, always careful, always cautious. Matthew could just use that against him, blackmail him in return. Yet nothing happens.

Until now. At the footlockers, he switches his shoes, is leaving- as a senior member, they don't require him to come in every day, especially with the new recruits trying to get into the habit of working with an inexperienced team. His side-bag rests over his shoulders and he realizes he's forgotten something. Not even seconds after he's turned does he have an armful of blond. Blinking, surprised, his balance is almost lost, but then he's caught himself and oh, it's Matthew.

Their last meeting was somewhat awkward, but the kid seems to be a little more socially distant than normal. Generally, Matthew walks with a smile and says hello to people (they're usually waving at the people behind him), but why is his head down? He wonders if this is what happens when Matt fights with his dad, or if the tutoring is really this stressful. Careful observation over the next couple days would bring the answer to light.

"If you're on your way home, I'll walk you."

Matthew let out a soft sound of surprise when he suddenly found a broad chest in his way and he stumbled into him. He blushed darkly and looked up, even more surprised to see Ivan in front of him. Wasn't he supposed to be on the student council or something?

It felt odd to be so close to him, especially with how their past interactions had gone, so he took a quick step back to give himself some room. The blond wondered if he expected him to come to their 'tutoring' session tonight. With what he had seen last night, he could easily spread rumors around school and get him off his back. Having his own dirt against him was prime, now he didn't have to bend to his whim. If Ivan cared enough about his reputation, then he would back off if Matthew brought up the topic of telling the other students about his home life.

The offer caught him off guard and he blinked up at him in surprise, his mouth forming a tiny 'o'. "Um, you don't have to do that..." He said, gripping his book bag tighter in front of him. "It's fine."

Ah. There was that moment when Ivan realized things were just that odd and any chance he had at- something- was gone. Now that Matthew knows his preference, it's bound to break everything before anything starts. Clearing his throat, he doesn't let off that he's offended, or that he's bothered, and instead he just nods. Well alright. Sure. It's not like he ever expected anything different- especially from some kid he's bullying. Makes sense. Still hurts.

Smile in place suddenly, he nods and shifts. Looking into his bag for something, he pulls out excess sheets and hands them over; time cards, obviously given to him by the school. He doesn't even need these. Each day is signed already- he transferred schools to get away from the hate, there was no way he was about to deal with it here. Not when he had such good recommendations coming; his life was going to start a couple years from now, he'll just pretend this all never happened.

"I'm not sorry I did it." Making that much clear, he decides it would be even more awkward to walk in the same direction so he's going to go ahead and get that thing he forgot.

"There's enough pages there that you don't have to come back." With that, he sidesteps and begins his trek back up the stairs. This doesn't matter. This is just high school. Who he likes behind closed doors is nobody's business, and he'll make sure of that; kind of didn't think Matthew was like that? Guess everyone has something that disgusts them.

Matthew looked surprised when Ivan suddenly smiled at him, feeling odd under his gaze. It didn't make much sense aside from appearances for him to be smiling like that in front of him, especially with most of the students gone around them.

He took the sheets he was handed, leafing through them with a confused expression for a moment before realization dawned on him and he looked back up at the other boy in shock. He was really giving up his blackmail that easily? He was just going to give it up? After all he had done to work up to it? What was going on?

The blond tilted his head as he listened to Ivan. It wouldn't have been like him to be sorry for doing it, so Matthew could understand. But he still couldn't understand why he was just dropping it so suddenly. The boy turned as Ivan walked past him, papers still held awkwardly in his slim hands.

Something seemed off about how he was acting, and Matthew didn't want him to think he was mad at him or anything, even if he had nearly gotten him expelled. The blond wasn't one to hold a grudge for long if someone offered an act of peace. So he tapped up the stairs after him, shifting the papers to one arm so he could catch Ivan's shoulder...well upper arm, he couldn't quite reach his shoulder while on a lower step. "Thank you, Ivan." He smiled brightly at him, his eyes crinkling happily as he clutched the papers to his chest.

Internally berating himself, he comes up with dozens of situations where he has the upper hand anyway. Gay or not, there was no proof, was there? He really should have just forced the kid to come over, but what was the point, anyway? Why Matthew? He'll just find another poor sap who doesn't realize what's coming and then he can have his fun with them. It hadn't been fun at all, this time around. It had been ugly and pathetic and as weak as he wished he didn't seem, he just didn't care enough to fight about this, to struggle against someone else who wouldn't accept him.

This weak line of thinking pissed him off. Oh, man, it's good he walked away because if Matthew decided to show up now he might just-

A hand was on his forearm and then he was turning, and a wide grin spreads across his features. Poor little lamb, lost amongst the other sheep; he'd learn in time that wolves aren't to be trifled with. Leaning, he first rubs a hand on the boy's head, and then then secondly finds no struggle removing the papers from between Matthew's arm.

"I'll see you at eight, Matthew." And with that, he chuckles and shakes his head.

"You should have left when I was feeling generous." Leaning in, he brushes a thumb across the boy's cheek.

"Don't worry. We won't talk this time." And with that, he turns on his heels and chuckles as he continues up the steps.

Matthew puffed up his cheeks in anger, fuming at the older boy. "What the hell!" He pouted, crossing his empty arms over his chest in annoyance. Dafuq just happened? Did he really take those papers back after he thanked him? Who the hell does that?

"I'm gonna kick your ass." The boy grumbled, giving up for now and shaking his head as he grabbed his backpack. So much for hoping people change, or have a decent sense of morals, or anyone will ever give him a break, or that they'll bring Jolly Rancher drinks back to the school's vending machines.

The blond decided he didn't care what the other thought, he was going to get some sort of revenge on him. How could he be an ass like that after he thanked him so earnestly! And fucking touching him so condescendingly like that! How uncouth!

Matthew grumbled to himself all the way home again, muttering darkly as he went over various ways to extract revenge on the older boy. Why did he want him to be there at eight anyway? Why so late?

If Ivan had been drinking, now is when he would have sprayed the fluid in laughter. The shout was enough to make him feel empowered again, less fearful. As it was, Matthew becomes depressed after a fight with his father, and Ivan struggles with the crippling fear of social rejection (ie; they'll leave me like everyone else if they discover the truth). In this case, he's coming to terms with the fact that he's strong enough to take ridicule, and make others regret the attempt. He's not that same kid anymore.

In the evening, he has classical music playing in his bedroom, has dinner cooked and ready (potato stew, which he'll put into Tupperware for his mother to help herself to when she comes home). He's also certain there will be no interruptions tonight, because his mother has left a message on the machine telling him she's running away with a man again and that she's glad she never has to see his face again (this happens a lot. She'll be back in a week or so).

His has gray jeans on and a sky blue hoodie which is rolled up to his elbows. Beneath it is a white button-up shirt, and the collar can be seen at the neck, and the cuffs can be seen at his forearms. There's a black, studded belt around his waist and a pair of white ankle socks on his feet. His hair is combed, he is comfortable, he's going to cause trouble.

7:55. Matthew has no excuse for being late since they live so close- he didn't even call, so it's not like the kid should be beaten right now. Rather, he did call, actually, but only to say that he was the student body president and that there must have been some confusion because Matthew is so extremely intelligent, and of course the bastard accepts the compliments, but Ivan doesn't feel so bad about getting the kid in trouble yesterday now (not that he felt bad, but at least it's rectified). Shaven, wearing a subtle aftershave, he has the curtains closed in his room ahead of time.

Things will be better today, he's sure.

Matthew sighed over the stove, stirring the simple selection his father had told him to make that night, ground beef and macaroni and cheese. He could make it better, but his father wanted it done quickly so he could eat. Sometimes he would take his share and season it specially, making it taste so much better than what he fed his dad.

Despite the slightly appetizing dinner and the fact that he hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch, he only filled a plate for his dad, setting it on the table with a cold beer before clearing away the dirty pots and pans and putting away the rest of the food in the fridge. He called his father down and cleared out of the kitchen before the man made his way downstairs. Dinner with him was tense at best, always a rude comment or slur thrown at him, sometimes he would only insult his cooking and let him off easy.

The boy hurried up to his room and freshened up, not bothering to change out of his school uniform. It was already past eight, but he wasn't that late. Wasn't like he cared to be on time, the bastard could wait for him if he was going to treat him in such a way.

By 8:15 he was knocking on the door, shifting impatiently on his feet as he scowled at the wood. Rude fucker. Maybe he should keep true to his word and hand the Russian his ass. That might make him feel better.

The first knock has him swinging the door open.

"Welcome." There's a smile there, pleasant and kind, and after he guides the boy in and closes the entry, he turns and let's out an annoyed sigh; facade dropping.

"You're late. Do you even know how to be on time? Fuck." There's no point in putting up any pretenses with Matthew, especially since the kid already knew his secret. Crossing his arms, he looks the boy over and clears his throat, nodding in his direction.

"What the hell, why are you still in your uniform? Whatever, come with me." Catching the smaller student's wrist, he guided him into the kitchen where a bowl of soup was waiting. As little as he cared if Matthew was hungry, he had put off eating because they might as well do it together.

"It might be cold, but that's your own damn fault- and don't give me any bullshit about how you've already eaten, because we both know you didn't." Looking the blond over again, he sets a spoon aside for him and they stand at the island in the middle of the kitchen.

"You're too thin. You should eat more." Lots of people have probably told him that. Actually, no- no one has probably cared enough to tell him that.

"We're obviously not going to study, clearly, since you're smart and I'm smarter, so there's no need. You're going to come over, you'll eat dinner with me, maybe watch a TV show- don't be stupid and ask why. I'm popular but I'm sure you're not surprised to find I don't have friends. I hate people; I don't hate you. Once we do that, you can go back home and do whatever loser shit you do. Don't dwell on it, I simply have needs and you're going to meet them. If you're going to argue, do it now."

Matthew just sighed as he felt the door close behind him, literally and figuratively. There was no getting out of this now. He scowled a bit as the other questioned his dress. He wasn't going to get all fancy for him.

He nearly stumbled when he was yanked into the kitchen, his small wrist feeling swallowed in the large hand. Why had he fixed him soup? The boy frowned up at him with a perplexed expression, one hand resting on the top of the island.

The nerve of him, telling him he was too thin. Regardless of the fact that he was right, it wasn't his place to, their relationship wasn't the kind that he could critic his body so casually. And now he's telling him what he was going to do again.

"First of all." The blond piped up the second Ivan stopped talking. "I'm late because I had to cook dinner for my dad. I'm wearing my uniform because I can. I'm not hungry, because it's none of your business. And my weight is none of your business either. Telling me what to do is not going to make me do it. I'm choosing the show we're watching and you get no choice in the matter. And Doctor Who comes on in fifteen minutes, so you better not make me miss it. Eat."

The boy rattled off in quick, clipped words, cocking an eye at the older boy as if daring him to contradict his words.

Matthew was almost attractive when he was snotty like that. Ivan had to use differing levels of self-control to stop himself from smiling at it all (aww, how cute, can wittle baby maffew walk, too?). He imagines the kid with dog ears and a tail and this is all too funny now but he nods, attempting to take the tiny child's 'demands' seriously. Okay, sure, whatever you say.

"I excuse your tardy." There's laughter bubbling so heavily under his skin that he finds it almost impossible to keep it out of his voice; he seems to manage.

"Also, I think your weight is a bit of my business, considering I have to look at you for 149 more hours. It's unsightly, Matthew, gain some weight." Then he pauses and a chuckle slips out. "I mean, I care about you and your health." His laughter finally takes over and he nods to the living room. This was too much fun. He should be punished for enjoying this.

"I'm not sure what channel that's on, but," then he turns from the counter. If Matthew won't eat, he won't either.

"Feel free to play around." Then he slumps onto the couch and offers out the remote.

Matthew scowled slightly at the boy, irritated by his obvious amusement. He didn't care, if Ivan wouldn't give him respect, then he wouldn't respect him either. It didn't matter to him, he wasn't the one blackmailing someone younger than him.

"I haven't the foggiest idea why you care if I'm grotesque or not. It's not like you chose to single me out because of my weight." Matthew snipped, plucking the TV remote out of his hand and sitting down on the floor with his legs stretched out in front of him. "I'm certain your stomach would have hardened by now, looking at yourself in the mirror every morning as you do."

He proceeded with ignoring the other, scrolling through the channels until he found Doctor Who and put it on. As the program began, he pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around the tops of them and resting his chin atop them. Blue eyes focused on the screen intently, reflecting the light from the TV. He loved Doctor Who intimately. There was this man that could control when and where he went at any time. He could go back and meet his grandfather or go forward and meet the fifty-first President. He was handsome and charming to some extent and ran about battling imbalances and weeping angels. Though, Matthew had to admit, the thought of the Statue of Liberty being a weeping angel was a bit terrifying.

For a moment, as Matthew seats himself (on the fucking floor), he wonders if that gesture is intentional. Is he disgusted? Does sharing the couch with a 'faggot' make him uncomfortable? He tries not to focus on it, doesn't want to really know the answer or anything like that. If Matt is intolerant then he really can't change that- unless he were to be indecent and cruel and do something illegal.

The screen turns on, and before he knows it, he's drowsy. Ivan never watches television, nor movies, so as a constant sound is in the background, his eyes flutter closed slowly. Unfortunate as it was, he falls asleep. His hands are folded in his lap, and his head is tilted back against the cushion. It's been quite some time since he felt comfortable enough to fall unconscious in front of another person. Soft colors play over the room as the show goes on and his white lashes reflect them easily. Hair falling in his face, his chest rises and falls quietly.

He dreams.

Matthew was so enthralled by the show that he didn't realize that Ivan had fallen asleep. He had honestly forgotten that he was in Ivan's house and watching TV with the boy who was blackmailing him into spending time with him...which was odd in itself.

He blinked when the show went off and realized the entire hour had passed. The boy stretched his arms over his head, arching his back to get the kinks out of it as he unfolded his legs. He hadn't moved throughout the entire show, so he groaned softly at the little aches. Small hands rubbed at his eyes, slipping beneath his glasses to scrub the tiredness away from them. "Ivan?" He murmured, twisting around to find that the other boy had fallen asleep on the couch.

Should he wake him up? Or should he just leave? He needed to get him slip signed, because the bastard took them all back from him (after getting thanked no less, ass). So up he got, shaking the older boy's shoulder gently so not to scare him awake too badly. If he were a tad more sadistic, he'd give him a good slap to settle the score a bit

Matthew is sitting on the ground, watching television. Partway through the show, the kid scoots up onto the couch and is enjoying it from there. The little blond has his knees tucked up into his chest, but one of his hands is between them on the seating. During a particularly intense part, their fingers touch, and at first he thinks nothing of it, but then Matthew is blushing, and he's surprised. Blinking, he decides to go for it, and sets his hand on top of Matt's and the blush deepens. Oh. Oh, well that makes sense, now.

Leaning across one of the seats, he watches as Matthew's eyes flutter, shy, looking downward. He doesn't move away, but his chin lifts slightly and then lips touch, and now it makes sense as to why Matthew hadn't told anyone. It was a crush, wasn't it? He smells good, tastes good, he's adorable- And then he leans back and the boy's eyes are closed, brows raised and lips parted. The lids open slowly, and then the kid swallows and-

Startled awake, he sees that same face and the dream is still forefront in his mind. A slight smile appears as Matthew is bent somewhat to nudge him, and his hand lifts, brushing a thumb over the kid's cheek. This Matthew is not blushing or demure, and he frowns, clearing his throat and pushing the boy back instead. Slipping off the seat, he notices the television is off.

"How was your stupid show? Let me get a pen."

Matthew looked slightly confused when Ivan awoke, lifting his hand and tenderly stroking his cheek. It startled him to say the least, especially when Ivan's expression changed in the next instant and he was being pushed back away from him. What was with this kid and his mood swings?

The blond sighed in annoyance and went to grab a pen from his back pack for the other boy so he could get out of there faster. It was nine o'clock and he needed to get home soon. He bent over his pack, not bothering to squat down as he searched for a pen for the boy to borrow real quick so his behind stuck up in the air as he rustled through his bag.

Could he be any more abnormal? Really, framing and blackmailing a student, mood swings and odd behavior, what was next? Running around the neighborhood in a tutu singing Russian Christmas songs?

Although his gender preference is not necessarily 'normal', there's a stigma that comes with it. When people know, they automatically assume that he might have 'disgusting' feelings about them- why was that? Do they also assume that every woman likes them, simply because they're a man? As such, he hadn't really considered Matthew as a partner, but once he had that dream- it's stuck in his mind. They don't act the same, sure, not now at least, but who knows how Matthew might act if he actually liked someone?

These are not the questions he should be thinking at 9pm at night with an angry boy waiting impatiently to leave. He's glad he restrained his need to just guide Matthew down to his mouth and-

Shaking his head, he's becoming frustrated. Retrieving a red-ink pen, he returns to see the kid doubled over and his butt straight up in the air. Something stirs in him, and an image flashes in his mind of Matthew beneath him, blushing and pulling at his shirt, legs wide and thighs trembling and Ivan has to turn his entire body away because he is suddenly struggling with a physical response to visual stimulus. Was this because of the dream? Or is this the actual reason he targeted Matthew?

He wants to touch it so bad, but he knows there's no reciprocation and that it would only lead down a slippery slope, and sure, he knew how he could get consent, but it would be coerced. There's another image of Matthew in a blind-fold, cheeks hot and mouth open wide for more air (breathlessly, Ivan hears his name) and his arms are tied to the bed above his head and Ivan is- so hard behind this kitchen island.

"I've got a pen, bring the paper here." It's suddenly too hot in this house.

Matthew couldn't find a damn pen! He had at least five in his bag at any time, but he just couldn't find one right now. He let out a frustrated sigh and searched through his front pocket again, accidentally stabbing his index finger on a pencil tip.

"Ow..." The blond frowned as he pulled his finger free, seeing a little red mark from his immaculately sharpened pencil. Maybe he shouldn't keep them so sharp all the time. Hearing Ivan call for the paper, he stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked on it to make the bit of pain go away as he pulled his signature sheet out with one hand.

He straightened up, turning to hand Ivan the paper and rested his elbow against the island, lips still wrapped around his finger. Of all the days he could have stabbed himself, why in front of Ivan? This week just sucked major monkey balls. Maybe he should make an offering to Mother Nature or something and that'll give him extra luck. 'I'll throw away all the aerosol cans in my house.' The boy thought, wondering if that would be enough or if he would need to recycle them to get in Mother Nature's favors.

Blue eyes turned on Ivan, wondering if he ever recycled like a good little A++ student should. The house seemed spotless enough for it, but he hadn't seen any bins outside. Why was he even bothering to think about this?

As he waited for Matthew to return and come get this damn signature, Ivan got the amazing opportunity to watch the kid wander towards him, sucking on a finger. It wasn't as though he had no self-restraint, obviously he did, that was pretty much the only thing he was especially good at- but it was difficult in his current state to ignore the naturally suggestive nature Matthew had a tendency of providing. Interesting as that was, he tries to relax and ignore the current problem.

When the paper was presented, he accepted it right away and began signing- his signature was a twist of curls and elegant- but this time it was a little choppy while he just watched this situation unfold. Take that damn finger out of your mouth, Christ, it was like he was almost doing it on fucking purpose. Not that it was particularly arousing, it just so happened that he was in a state that was easily excitable.

If Matthew had asked him about recycling, his response would have been confusion, but then a mumbled reply about their garage and how the Bins go out Sunday night and are brought back Monday morning. Irrelevant as Matthew's thoughts were, Ivan was sharing some similar thoughts- irrelevant, not about recycling. Knowing he was homosexual, Matthew came anyway, even though he had leverage and had no real reason to come. Not to mention willingly being in the empty house with him, in the same room, watching television together- if Ivan didn't know any better, it almost seemed like a naive invitation.

He did know better, though.

"I won't be showing you to the door, you know the way out. Have a good night, Matthew."

Matthew leaned his hip against the counter, watching the older boy sign his paper in neat handwriting. It was very unlike his own, even though his was neat, it wasn't elegant like Ivan's was. He had obviously spent some time on it, tuning it until it was an art-like finessed thing.

The boy finally took his fingertip from his mouth, frowning at it a bit before wiping it on the back of his jeans. He took the paper back from Ivan, ignoring his rather rude statement, and bent over his back pack to put away his paper again. As always, he shifted it in its little sleeve until it was immaculately straight, in line with all the rest of the papers and that none were sticking out unevenly. It annoyed him to no end to see others who folders were nothing but loose paper and mess.

The blond straightened up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He glanced back at the older boy, thinking to say goodbye before twitching his lips and deciding against it. If he was going to be rude to him then he didn't have to be polite back. Matthew headed towards the door, waving over his shoulder because he couldn't be completely rude to anyone.

Matthew seems to enjoy taking forever, but Ivan really just wants to deal with this little problem. As soon as the kid leaves, he can run upstairs and take care of his annoying arousal, and then he can continue on with his life like any other rude person. Glancing to Matthew as he waves, Ivan finds himself imagining things again.

Walking over there, pushing the boy against the door and letting his hands roam free. Dipping under fabric, touching skin and Matthew would moan softly, blushing, but he wouldn't push him away. He'd kiss neck, and leave a mark there, and he'd rutt against the younger man- eliciting sounds, moans, even. There would be a plea, quiet and shaky, and Ivan would turn him around, remove the backpack, and then they'd be in each other's arms, lips mashing together. It would be easy from there, lifting Matthew off the ground and grinding him into the door, and there would be whimpers, but there would also be nails scratching at his back, or fingers tugging at his hair.

Jerking, he realizes he was day dreaming, and that it didn't help his position at all. He doesn't bother waving good bye in return, he just stuffs both hands into his pockets and begins walking to the stairs beside the door. As he passes, he makes sure to remind Matthew '8 o'clock, tomorrow' before starts his trek up the stairs.

Matthew sighed, shaking his head at Ivan and wondering why he was even continuing to come. He had enough leverage from the older boy's home life to get him to let him off, but he just wasn't the kind of person to do things like that.

He left, closing the door behind him gently and wondering why the other boy had seemed so odd in the last few minutes. With a shrug he headed home, slipping upstairs before his father noticed him. The boy didn't feel like having to deal with him today. He was stressed enough and tired. Falling face first on his bed, he gave a muffled moan of thanks and then huffed at the annoyance of glasses. Slim fingers removed them from his face and folded them neatly before depositing them on his nightstand.

He quickly stripped to his boxers, slipping under his blanket and curling up tightly on his left side, staring out his open window for a while. It was nice to sleep with the window open, a cool breeze and the scent of grass and flowers from the gardens around their house flowing in. He didn't have to worry about anyone breaking in because it was on the second floor and there weren't any trees or such around his window, so he got to enjoy it every night it was warm enough.

He drifted off after a while, blanket pulled up over his nose as always and his hair barely peeking out from under the covers.

After Matthew left, he closed the door to his room and leaned back against it. Leaving the light off, he lets out an aggravated sigh and absently tests his groin and frowns. Ah, that damn dream, and now he's going to be reminded of it all the time when he sees Matthew in the halls or, well, anywhere else for that matter. It's annoying, and he generally goes out of his way not to like someone, so when he's stuck in this confused position (he doesn't like Matthew, he swears it) he doesn't know what to do.

He debates whether he should take care of this matter, or whether he should just have a cold shower, but then the light across the street goes on and he's blinking. Ah, yeah. He started getting interested one day when he was bored doing his homework. He'd looked out the window and saw a kid studying really intently at their own desk. Ivan started wondering about him, where he went to school- he'd never noticed the boy until then.

Even now, with his hand rubbing a circle against his bulge, he watches with interest as the kid strips down (maybe five seconds, but still). He can't indulge this. It's very important he get that dream out of his head. Closing his eyes, he straightens and walks to the shower.

Things will be better in the morning.

And they are. He opens his eyes and doesn't think of Matthew for a second. Instead, he thinks of why the house smells like it's on fire- Glancing to the clock, he realizes it's actually the weekend, and he doesn't need to get up for school. There's a disappointment there, but he gets up anyway.

Matthew was stirred awake from his peaceful sleep by his father's rough hand and he made a sound of protest. "Get up, you useless thing. I want my breakfast before I have to leave."

The man gave him one last shake and headed back down stairs, leaving the boy to rouse himself and slide his glasses back onto his nose. He'd been having a nice dream and of course at the best part his father had woken him up. But already the dream was slipping away and he could only remember bits of it. With a sigh, the blond got up and dressed, closing his window regretfully.

Downstairs, his father was sitting at the table in the kitchen reading the paper and Matthew started on his breakfast quietly. Occasionally the man would make a sound of interest or flip the page, but other than that he didn't talk until Matthew set his plate in front of him. "Get me some milk."

The boy nodded with an internal sigh and fetched him a glass to wash the pancakes he'd made down. Then he retreated to the living room to work on his homework in semi-peace.

"Ivan, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Standing on the stairwell in his pajamas (a pair of athletic long distance running shorts and a racer-back tank top), Ivan raises an eyebrow at the cloud of smoke. Curious, and a little concerned, he continues down until he sees there's a bright flame in the kitchen and he sighs.

"I thought I'd make you some breakfast, I know how you like piro-"

Smiling, he pats her head and she smiles, and he walks to the hallway closer (not wanting to scare her by rushing) and pulls out the fire extinguisher. Walking around the island, he realized something was burning in the over and he uses a hot pad to open it before pulling the pin. After he finished dousing it, he turns off the machine and his mother gives him a hug and a bunch of apologies. She mumbles about how she's useless without him and that he can never leave her, and he hugs her back and agrees each time with 'I know'.

Thirty minutes later, he's scheduled for a repair/replacement, and had made omelets and if walking out to get the mail. Sorting through it at the box, he realizes some of it isn't all his. He has some of the neighbor's to their right, and as God would have it to punish him, there's some for the Williams' house. Easily walking some to the mailbox at the right, he begins towards Matthew's house, annoyed. He notices they have an old fashioned box, one where their mail goes in the door, and outgoing mail goes in a bin beside the doorbell.

Sighing, he decides it might be better just to knock.

So he does.

Matthew had to get up a few times in order to get something for his father, but otherwise he was left alone for the most part. He was steadily filling out math problems, almost two whole pages full of neat equations already, when there was a knock on the door.

His father yelled at him to get it and take care of it and he sighed, getting up and putting his homework down before trotting to get the door. When he opened the door, he was surprised to find Ivan standing there with a handful of mail. "Um, hello?" He asked uncertainly, shifting awkwardly as he wondered why the other was there.

"Who's there?" His dad called from the kitchen.

"The boy that lives across the street." Matthew called back in his soft voice.

"Tell him to come in." He replied, a chair scraping across the tile of the kitchen floor. The blond twisted his lips in a frown and turned back to Ivan. "Um...do you want to come in?" He asked hesitantly, still holding the edge of the door.

Initially, he had opened his mouth to say something like 'hey, take your fucking mail', but had been interrupted by Matthew's father. Waiting patiently for the conversation to return to him, he is surprised when he is invited in. What could the good of that be? There's no point, why the fuck- okay, well actually who cares? Ivan never claimed to be a nice kid. Besides, he disliked the way Matthew was emitting 'come in and die' glares.

"I'd love to." The smirk was not on his face, but in his voice. This was too fun. How had he almost given up torturing this brat? Motioning for the boy to get the fuck out of the doorway and let him in, he ignores that his clothing is not fit for an introduction- but now is as good a time as any.

Easing by the blond, patting him on the head, he slips into the house and removes his shoes (that's only polite). Walking in further, he stops and turns around, arms crossed, waiting for the obviously-expected introduction.

Matthew immediately regretted telling his father it was Ivan, maybe he should have told him it was just the paperboy coming to collect. That would have been a hell of a lot easier and he wouldn't want to stab the older boy with a pen for patting his head.

The boy's father came into the room, looking nothing like the drunkard asshole he was at home. He was dressed for work in a suit and tie and looked very professional. Often Matthew wondered why he couldn't have the man that went to work every day as his father instead of the one he'd gotten. "Hello, I'm Matthew's father."

A hand was held out to Ivan and a winning smile was on his face. "So you're the boy who's tutoring him?" He asked after shaking Ivan's hand. He was quick and steady when speaking or moving. "I wanted to meet you for a while, make sure you're doing a proper job of it."

As his father spoke with Ivan, Matthew stood by the now closed door, scuffing his toes against the carpet and trying to not be noticed.

There was a sound behind him and he turned. At first, he took in the sight and then he allowed a smile, too. It felt almost like two wolves greeting each other, but he wouldn't mention anything of the sort. Accepting the hand, he shakes twice and then releases. Of course, he's in athletic clothing, while the father is in a suit, and he feels inappropriately dressed- he hopes the man will assume he's part of a sport.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Ivan Braginski." Shoulders back, squared, chin high, he makes sure to give off a great impression. This is one of the things he's good at; making people like him. It hadn't worked for Matthew, but that's probably because he wasn't blackmailing everyone else.

"Mm, yes. I'm student body president also- I was quite surprised how easy it was to work with Matthew, he's quite bright, you've raised him well." It's always important to compliment the individual, because it makes them feel comfortable around you. If you keep the conversation directed on them, they begin to like you, because people love talking about themselves. He only mentions his leadership position so that the father can recognize just where the compliment is coming from (someone important and influential).

"At any rate, you look like you're on your way out? Thank you for taking the time." Glancing to the side, he sees a notebook open in the living room. "I was hoping to look over Matthew's homework, would it be alright if I stayed for a while?"

Matthew's father nodded along with his words, smile in place. "If he were so smart he wouldn't be failing." He said with a grin, though beneath it he was annoyed with his son. "But I don't mind, maybe you could help him work on his homework a little. He certainly needs it."

The boy clenched his fists, angry at his father's words, acting as if he were nothing but a delinquent in remedial classes. Just because he'd been framed he thought he could tell him off like he was an idiot. Asshole that he was, he rubbed it in at any moment he could, with a smile at that.

"I'll be on my way, then. Matthew, get him something to drink, lazy boy." The blond nodded stiffly, brushing past both of them to get Ivan a soda. "Goodbye, Ivan, it was nice meeting you. Do try to be patient with Matthew, he doesn't always understand everything."

And with that he was gone, pulling out of their driveway and down the street. Matthew clenched his hand around the can, denting the metal slightly. A bit of an evil streak made him shake the can roughly, teeth clenched together in anger. He took a moment to calm down before returning to Ivan and holding out the drink to him. "Here."

"We're pretty certain there's been a misunderstanding on the teacher's part. Nobody who tested in the top 15 could be failing these classes." The comment was clear, concise, but also friendly. He found his temper rising as he considered how rude this fucking guy was. Sure, it was one thing for the man to be upset, but another to so blatantly insult his son.

Of course, he didn't expect a response- most people with an attitude like Matthew's father would pretend they didn't hear that. He just continues to smile and waves politely as the gentleman leaves, but as soon as the door closes, he's furious. What the hell kind of parent-?

Receiving the can, he looks at it and then back to Matthew. Ivan snorts and then shakes his head, handing it back.

"I don't drink carbonated beverages." Walking into the living room, he picks up the book, glances at the answers and then drops it back on the table. All of them are correctly done, which is to be expected.

"Well? You going to give me a tour or what? Also, your dad is fucking rude. I don't know how you turned out the way you did if you were surrounded by that piece of shit."

Matthew was annoyed to lose his fun, but took the can back wordlessly. He tossed it in the trash, not caring if it was still full. His father was the only one who really drank the damn things anyway. He was a bit surprised that Ivan had stuck up for him at the end there, but it was the least he could do after singlehandedly being the cause of this situation.

"Yeah, he's an asswipe." Matthew said softly, a little tiredly, picking up his books and putting them back into his bag neatly. Might as well give him a tour, he probably wouldn't leave until he got one anyway. "What do you mean by that?" The last part had him curious.

The boy pushed his bangs behind his ear, straightening his glasses as he stood back up. "And don't mind him, he's always like that." Actually he's much much worse and you wouldn't believe the things he calls me when no one else is around, but this is the politest thing I can say without you feeling the need to either beat him or call child protective services.

"By what?" Ivan raises a brow in return. Considering his words, he realizes the point and then he shrugs. "I guess I just mean you're a really good kid, father withstanding. Any parent would have been lucky, yours just doesn't acknowledge he could have had a bastard instead of this pained kid who just wants to be okay."

Somewhere off to the side, he's opening books on one of the shelves and is flipping through it. Nothing interesting- although no dust is at the top. They're all classics, but his money is on the fact that Matthew probably actually reads the things.

"I didn't mind him so much as I just wanted to hurt him. I'm sure you can see how that's within my character." Shifting, he slips the item back on the shelf and then motions to the room they're in.

"So this is the living room." Walking back the way he'd come, he pokes his head into the other space. "Kitchen." He glances back to Matthew, giving him the opportunity to continue the tour, otherwise he has made it clear he will go ahead and tour the place himself.

Matthew turned a bit red at the other's words. "I guess that's true." He said, going after the other and making certain he put every book back exactly where he found it, nudging a few back into place.

"He's not the best person to live with." He admitted, shifting a little. Sure he wanted to hurt him every now and again, he hit him after all, but he would never tell anyone else that. Especially not after meeting him for five minutes and blackmailing his kid. "Why do you want to hurt him?" He asked quietly, looking up at him as he looked through his house.

With a sigh he relented, knowing the other was going to go through his house either way. So he stepped in front of him and led him through the house. "This is the study where my father does his work after he comes home, this is the storage room and the guest suit. There's the guest bathroom. This is the den and there's my room and my father's room upstairs with an exercise room and two more bathrooms." He pointed out each of the rooms except the last as they passed them.

As he proceeded to browse and take in his surroundings, he considered Matthew's question and calculated an answer. Whatever the kid thought he was confessing to was not the case. Ivan is not the type to say 'only I can pick on you', because really, everyone picks on Matthew every single day by ignoring his existence. It was just ironic enough that the only people who did notice him were rude and hurt him emotionally (although physical abuse seemed like something Matt was not foreign to).

"Mm, I wonder. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that he insults you to a peer the first chance he gets. He's malicious. He's also your father and that's not okay. Besides," Leaning in the different rooms, looking around, he glances back over his shoulder, "-You don't deserve it. You deserve happy parents who spoil you rotten."

Curious about the final door, he begins to motion to it but recognizes that perhaps it was intentionally left alone. Of course, Ivan is not the passive type who would let this go without mentioning it, so he does.

"What is this?" Gesturing to the door, he crosses both arms and leans against the door frame as if he was waiting, as if he was saying 'I'm not moving until you tell me what this is'.

"There's no point in keeping secrets, Matthew, I'll find out."

Matthew frowned at the older boy. "I don't deserve better parents." He said softly, scoffing lightly. Why would he need good parents after what he had done? "He might be an asshole, but he's what I get."

It was bad enough that he had to deal with being cursed not to stand out, aside from dealing with his past demons he had to deal with his father and Ivan. But his father had good reason to be hateful against him, even if he didn't like it.

He glanced at the last door with a frown. They were upstairs after he had pointed out all of the rooms. He didn't want the other boy in there, it was his space and he hadn't wanted to tell him which room was his. "It's storage." He said believably, frowning at the other slightly and heading downstairs. "I have some ice water in the fridge if you want some."

Shrugging, Ivan wasn't about to argue anything. Really, every kid deserved someone to care about them, and whatever reason Matthew has for thinking him the exception, Ivan doesn't care about in the slightest. As Matthew dismisses the door as a closet and begins back down the stairs, Ivan adopts the mentality of 'well if it's only a closet, then it won't matter if I go in it'. Pushing off the door, he opens it and pushes the door open. There are things like a bed and dresser in there, but it's dark and the windows are drawn, so he can't really identify much else.

Shaking his head, he finds himself both amused and annoyed, but trudges behind down the stairs, too. Walking into the kitchen, he looks about- opens the fridge, looks at the contents- then shrugs.

"I'm okay." Nodding towards the front door, he begins towards it.

"I'll leave. Thanks for having me, and for the hospitality." Suddenly, he's feeling very distant. He suspects it's because he'd been lied to, but he left the evidence that he'd seed the truth wide open, and just doesn't particularly want to deal with this. Besides, he has to get back home and make sure his mother is alright.

"I'll slip any other mail we get on accident into your door slot."

Matthew nodded absently, picking up the mail from the table where Ivan had left it as sorting through it as he left. "See you at eight." He said, walking back into the kitchen and letting the boy see himself out. With a soft sigh he plopped down in a chair, resting his head on his crossed arms for a moment as he let the tension drain out of him. It was difficult enough with his father making him stressed, but having to deal with Ivan as well was putting more strain on his thin body than he could handle.

Within a few moment he was asleep again, having not gotten enough sleep the night before and being woken up early today. The mail was loosely clenched in one hand and his cheek was resting against his upper arm, his glasses sitting at an odd angle. He'd have to finish up his math homework later, he just needed a little nap right now, just loosen up real quick before he ended up breaking.

Ivan says nothing about it being Saturday, or that Matthew doesn't have to come over. Instead he just walks out, closing the door behind him. It's a little chilly, and his lack of clothes remind him of that- he's used to the cold, though, so he doesn't mind it much. For a long time, the furnace didn't work, and somehow his mother had tampered with the AC unit and it had been perpetually on for years (since he was young, they were poor, and he didn't know how to do that stuff). Of course, he ended up getting a library book and working on it himself when he was a bit older.

At home, he's doing his normal chores, and at one point, he walks upstairs and lies on his bed, just because he can. It's been a long time since he's been carefree, and he's not relaxing for thirty minutes before there's a crash downstairs and he's getting back up. Looking for the sound, he sees his mother in the rain in the backyard and is cocking his head. She's doing something- setting up the barbecue? Heading out, he asks her to come inside, says it's too wet for roasting. She's adamant, keeps trying to assemble it, cries because it's not working and he's crouching beside her, and she's crying, then starts hitting him and he gets her to go back in with the agreement that he'll finish setting it up.

Twenty minutes later and he's drenched, walking back inside and he's cold, his cheeks and nose are red- but his mom offers him some hot chocolate and he softens, smiling. There's a sniffle that follows. It stays with him for the next hour or two, then he notices his body is overly hot. His mom decides to go out drinking and he passes out on the coffee table with a fever.

Matthew woke up with a sniffle, looking around sleepily. He shuffled around the kitchen, pulling down things for a little lunch as he rubbed his eyes. He fixed himself a grilled cheese, his stomach rumbling as he cooked it. When he sat down at the table to eat all he could do was pick at it for a while though. It wasn't appetizing anymore.

After a while he gave up trying to eat it and threw it away, pouring a glass of tea and going to curl up in the living room on the couch. He watched TV for a while, ignoring his homework. He could always do it at Ivan's. Of course, he knew he didn't have to go today, but he wanted to get it over with as soon as he could and it wasn't like he had anything else to do.

The boy sipped at his drink as he watched How It's Made, dozing off after a while. When he woke up again he found it was nearly eight. He had to go to Ivan's soon. The blond rubbed his eyes again, wiping sleep from them. He shuffled out of his house and over to Ivan's, wondering why his father hadn't woken him up to make him dinner. A few knocks on the door and he waited patiently for the other to answer.

The sound at the door made him flinch. Wincing, he opens his eyes and things are blurry. Man, this place is just so fucking hot, maybe the furnace suddenly kicked in? Scooting his chair out, he looks down at his body- dark gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt- to make sure he's presentable. He can feel moisture at his neck. It's uncomfortable.

Walking proves to be somewhat difficult and he's shocked at the sudden turn of events. He hasn't had a cold in years. Of course, he hasn't been that reckless in years, either, but this seemed to hit him so fast. Pale fingers wrap around the door knob and he twists, pulling it open. He just stares for a moment, waiting for his brain to catch up and then he clears his throat, stepping back. Hopefully Matthew doesn't notice- he doesn't like showing weakness. (Of course, with the rosy cheeks and nose it might be difficult not to notice)

"Come on in." He gives the boy a wide birth and then shuts the door. What were they going to do? Watch T.V., right. In an attempt to remain cool, he walks carefully into the living room and plops onto the couch, motioning at the remote.

"Is it going to be Doctor What's-his-name again?"

Matthew waited at the door, brushing wet bangs out of his eyes from the rain. It was still dripping steadily behind him and he was glad Ivan's house had a covered porch. The cold air felt nice against his skin and he enjoyed the coolness that only came with the rain.

When Ivan opened the door Matthew immediately noticed that he looked bad. He hadn't looked this bad when he came over to his house earlier. "Um, are you alright?" He asked quietly, edging into the house and looking up at the other boy. The other apparently didn't hear him because he walked into the living room and plopped down on the couch. The blond sighed softly and walked in behind him, examining him briefly before sitting down on the floor against the couch.

"Doctor Who." He corrected him, picking up the remote and changing the channel. "Are you alright?" He asked again, twisting around to look at the other boy. This time he spoke louder so that Ivan would hear him. "You don't look so good. Did something happen after you left?" He was kinda worried about the older boy, wondering if he was sick.

"I'm sorry, but if you don't mind, it's just 'The Doctor'." Chuckling then, he was proud of his lame little joke (one he promised he would never state out loud when he was perusing the internet to learn more about this, "Doctor"). Another had gone 'knock, knock', followed by 'who's there', then the obvious 'doctor', then the laughter 'doctor who?'. Ivan doesn't really want Matthew to know he was curious about the things the kid liked, but he's just not censoring himself much right now. This congestion did not feel good. It felt like it was centered in his face.

Eyes already closing, he halts them to glance down at Matthew and nod. He felt too human right now, he wanted to be the distant rude boy instead. Clearing his throat, he wets his lips and nods.

"I'm alright. Don't worry about me, Matthew, it's weird." Lids shutting, he leans back and gets comfortable. Naturally, he folds both hands into his lap like the first time. It's been especially nice having someone around while he napped, even if it was a short period of time.

"You know, if we actually became friends, you could come over here more and deal with that man less."

Matthew stared at him for a moment, wondering if he had a fever. Did he really just make a Doctor joke? Really? Ivan, the maniacal evil mastermind that's blackmailing him into staying here with him every night? The other night he had never heard of him and now he's making jokes about him that every Whovian knows? Did he look him up or something?

Try as he might, Matthew couldn't help but find that kinda adorable, that this big older student would do something like that, presumably just because Matthew liked it.

"Um, do you need anything to drink or anything?" He asked, ignoring the other's words, he wasn't the kind of person to leave someone who needed help by themselves. The boy got up, dusting off his bottom and straightening his shirt. He froze at the other's words, frowning slightly. "I suppose that's true..."

Having to deal with his father less would be a blessing, but that was if his father would even let him come over. He was controlling to say the best and it was a miracle he'd even relented and let him go to the high school he was going to. His scholarship had been the only thing that allowed him to go. "You've got some ways to go in getting to be my friend." Matthew admitted softly.

"I said I was alright." The words were quiet, because he was mostly just about to fall asleep here, which is what he did last time. What was the point of making Matthew come over? He can't seem to remember, but he wonders if maybe he was just a little bit lonely and he could tell that this boy was either too hard-headed or too nice to put up too much of a fight. Eyes closed, he waves a hand dismissively, a smile breaching.

"I'm pretty much your only friend, you know, and I have to blackmail you to come. I can't imagine what kind of requirements someone must have to get your attention. I was already popular, everyone knew me, I was nice to everyone, but you never looked at me. I even lived across the street." Shifting, he slumps to the side so that his head is on the arm rest.

"If anything, you're the one who should put in a little effort, I'm the one who brought us together- even if it wasn't the most normal of ways. I met your dad, I brought you mail, I make you snacks, and you just give me the cold shoulder. I've only asked you to talk or watch TV with me and I'm some villain, like you somehow think your record won't be spotless." By the end of it, his voice had gotten weaker, because he was literally drifting off. Sniffling, he wipes his nose and hugs himself a little tighter.

"Help yourself to anything in the fridge; I haven't shaken any of the sodas."

Matthew opened his mouth to refute the boy's claim, but closed it again when he started talking. His face hardened and closed off as he spoke and he sat down hard on the couch, staring down at his hands, folded neatly in his lap.

"...I know that no one ever notices me and I don't have any friends, but it isn't for lack of trying. I've tried to become a member of an ice hockey team, part of the art club at school, hell I even tried to get on the student council. But no one ever realized I was there." He said quietly, picking at a loose thread on his jeans. "No one even hears me when I yell, it's like I don't exist. You're the only one who's actually said anything to me without being told I was there in the past year. Even if your means are less than desirable, you noticed me."

The boy drew his knees up to his chest, tucking his chin atop them. "My father is really the only one who notices me without being surprised I was there to begin with. Well, him and you. But neither of you seem to realize that I can't help being like I am. Invisible, unnoticed...I don't mean to ignore you, I just thought you wouldn't notice me anyway, so why bother trying to get to know you? It's not like anyone else has ever noticed me."

"Hell, someone sat on me at lunch last week. That's how little people take note of me." And he was being completely truthful, someone who had gone to school with him for five years had sat on him and it took him a full five seconds to realize there was someone underneath him. "And I don't take kindly when I'm forced into something, so I'm sorry if I ever upset you because I didn't want to talk..."

When his eyes opened, he was staring at the muted television screen. His vision was blurry, and he could feel sweat starting at his neck. This was so uncomfortable. It was obnoxious and he'd never done anything to deserve being sick. Sure, he was blackmailing someone, but had he actually hurt them? Matthew's teachers and the principal forgot about this the moment Ivan said he'd take care of it, and sure, the kid got hit, but any excuse would have done for that bastard.

He's trying to listen and be attentive, but he's so tired, and he feels so sick and all around, he just feels piss-poor. Shifting up on one elbow, he turns to look across the couch and he wipes both his eyes then his nose and shakes his head.

"I didn't say you could help it. But now that I've noticed you, can't you be a little more agreeable? I mean, you want me to understand that you're invisible, so you act accordingly, but then you should also know that I'm a little messed up, but I'm trying. There's actual effort going into you. You can demonize me all you want in that blond little head of yours, but if that's what it takes, fine. I can be the bad guy."

There's pressure in his front nasal cavity and he leans forward, both hands pressing on his temples.

"At least you notice /me/ now."

Matthew sighed softly, feeling bad even though Ivan was the one terrorizing him into coming over every day. He also knew he didn't have to anymore, he had enough dirt on him after that first night not to have to deal with him ever again. But still...he noticed him...he talked to him and recognized him and so far he had yet to sit on him.

"I'm sorry..." Matthew had never been particularly good at apologies, even if he apologized all the time. "I know you noticed me, but it's just so surreal, like you're just not real and there's actually no one who can see me." He paused, looking over at the boy. "You're not okay." He said firmly, getting up and going into the kitchen.

The boy returned a few moments later with a damp rag and forced the older boy to lay down on the couch. "You stay there until I say so." The blond said in a tone that offered no room for argument. The damp rag was laid under Ivan's bangs as Matthew turned on the ceiling fan above them. "Do you have any aspirin or cold medicine that you know of?" The underclassman asked, kneeling down beside him and feeling his cheek. "You've got a fever. Did you stay out in the rain today? That was irresponsible."

It was difficult to imagine how Matthew wouldn't be noticed. It's not like he's unattractive, not like he wasn't friendly or anything else like that. As a matter of fact, he was quite cute. He had an adorable personality when he wasn't being picked on or- sat upon, for that matter. Regardless of how he thought, though, at one point, he hadn't noticed Matthew, too.

As he's thinking, he finds himself being guided down onto the couch and he was kind of feeling a little dizzy, so he doesn't mind. Something cool is on his forehead and he's sighing in relief. That's a bit better. Maybe instead of complaining he'll just let Matthew do this stuff since he seems to be good at it.

"Mirror cabinet in the bathroom." Chuckling, he shakes his head and takes in a couple slow breaths.

"Mm, I was in the yard... but mom... It doesn't matter. I'm really fine. I'm just a little hot." Turning his head, he looks Matthew over for a moment and snorts a laugh.

"You're too nice for your own good."

The boy got up to go get the medicine, blushing when he heard the other. "Shush you. It's the fever talking." He said, hurrying away so the other wouldn't see him embarrassed expression. He couldn't help it, he saw Ivan so sick and he just couldn't leave him there. What if his fever got too high? His mother wasn't going to take him to the hospital.

Matthew searched through the cabinet, pushing aside pill bottles until he found the aspirin. He shook two onto his palm and went back to the kitchen to fill a glass with water before heading back to Ivan. "Here you go." The boy said, kneeling down again and setting the glass on the side table as he handed him the pills. "Sit up a little so you can drink."

It was odd seeing the big bad senior bedridden like this. He was normally so full of himself and top-dogish. And here he was, Matthew taking care of him of his own free will. "You shouldn't have stayed out so long." He said softly, tilting his head at him. "Don't you know you'll catch cold in the rain?"

By the time Matthew returned from the bathroom, Ivan had almost fallen asleep again. He was so drowsy and he really just felt all sorts of miserable. There was an initial flinch, him caught unawares of the boy's presence, and then he relaxed and allowed the small kid to help him drink and take the pills. This was really shameful, but it couldn't be helped. The last time this happened he was able to make it to his room, spent a day or two in there sweating out the fever before his mom even came back home.

"Mm, I know, but she's neurotic and it was the only way I could get her to go inside." His accent was heavy now, unable to focus well enough to keep it at bay. They slurred together and after a moment he just reaches out with one hand and smooths it over Matthew's cheek. It's cool, and it feels good, and he's feeling oddly affectionate and strange and-

"But it's okay, heh..." Fingers dip up into blonde and he strokes casually, almost in a daze. "-Because you're here."

Matthew helped Ivan to take his pills, making sure he swallowed before letting him lay back down. How could he have gotten too bad so quickly? He was fine just this morning, even getting drenched shouldn't have gotten him so sickly so fast.

The boy's blush darkened when a hand cupped his cheek and slid into his hair. "U-Um, y-you should go to sleep. You're obviously becoming delirious." He said, pulling away from the other gently, pushing the other's arm down again. Oh goodness, he felt like he was going to burst into flames.

"I-I should leave. You'll be fine on your own, right?" Why was he asking a sick person if they were going to be fine on their own? He shook his head and stood up, turning to leave. "Um, I guess you can call me if you need anything." The blond turned back and pulled out his cell phone, with a tiny contacts list, to give the other his number.

Ivan didn't react when he was guided away, or when he was told to sleep. When Matthew suggested he rest, he raised an eyebrow and then cleared his throat. It doesn't dawn on him that his behavior has made the kid uncomfortable, and so he just nods and closes his eyes. Yeah, sure, this is no problem. He can take care of himself. Ivan was used to that, actually.

Shifting, he sits up, weight on one palm, the other catching the wash cloth.

"I'll be alright on my own. Just get home before it gets too dark." Shaking his head, he checks his watch and then wets his lips. He just has to get up to his room before mom comes home- who knows what weird mood she'll be in? He feels groggy, though.

"Thanks for your help."

With that, he slips from the couch and rises. He doesn't know why he's behaving weird right now. He's responding to something, but he's not sure. Is he angry?

"I'll see you out."

Matthew wrote down his number either way, leaving it on the kitchen counter as they passed it. "Just call me if you need anything." He said again, looking up at the older boy. It wouldn't be right to just leave him without someone to look after him.

"I'll be right over if you need me, okay?" His blue eyes were intent on Ivan's groggy amethyst ones, making sure he understood in his current state. The older boy may be acting weird, but he attributed it to the fever. He was more worried about his fever, he didn't know how high it was, or if he needed to go to the hospital. "Hopefully that aspirin will help with your fever."

Matthew glanced at his watch as well, wincing at the time. He'd been here for longer than the allotted hour. Maybe his father wasn't home yet and he could sneak in without him knowing.

Ivan wouldn't call. Matthew should know by now that he can only reach out little tiny bits at a time. Calling is a pretty big step. It's one thing for someone to force help on him, but it's another entirely to have to ask for help. Just as soon as the number is left on the counter, Ivan nods in agreement. Get out, already.

Noticing the kid checking the time, he opens the door and gestures for Matthew to leave. He doesn't want to hold the guy there if he doesn't want to stay. Ivan doesn't even mind people leaving anymore. He's just grown accustomed to the fact that everyone does it; his father, his mother, friends, now Matthew. Perhaps he's not in the correct state of mind to be thinking about this.

Nudging the kid out, he waves once and then closes the door. From here, he rests his forehead against the wood. Finding the energy draining from him, he makes his way up the steps- almost makes it to his room before he just lies on the ground and closes his eyes. This is okay, he doesn't mind sleeping here. At least there's a rug here. Matthew smells nice; he's probably going to get the shit smacked out of him. So tired.

Matthew hurried across the road, slipping in through the door silently. Ivan was weird when he was sick, that was for sure. The boy crept up the stairs to his room, breathing out a sigh of relief. His father was apparently not home.

"Matthew!" The blond winced, cursing his short luck. He stepped out of his room, walking back downstairs. "Why are you back so late? Didn't I tell you to be back at nine?" The man was scowling hard at his son, stance threatening.

"I-I was, Ivan was sick and I was helping him." Matthew stammered quietly, clenching his hands in front of him nervously.

"Speak up! Hell, I can never hear you when you speak!" His father snapped at him. "And I don't care if he was sick or not! I told you to be back at nine, not help some pansy boy get over a bug!"

"He needed help!" Matthew said, voice barely louder than before. A sharp smack silenced him.

"Don't you talk back to me! I said nine and I meant it." The man hauled the boy up by his collar. "You're getting out of hand, thinking you can go against me lately. All that I do for you, feeding, clothing you, letting you go to that damn school. The least you could do is pay me some respect!" He brought his hand down against Matthew's face, something he almost never did. The boy cried out, kicking against him which only fueled his anger more.

Finally he threw him down, kicking his side roughly. "Get out of my sight, boy." Matthew didn't need to be told twice and shot up the stairs as fast as he could, curling up against the side of his bed and quieting his sobs into a pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

I forgot to add in the last chapter that this is a collab roleplay between me and a friend from facebook, hence the odd format and constant POV shift. Hope it doesn't confused anyone too much because I really enjoy writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it just as much.  
**Heads up, adult material in this chapter, you've been warned.  
Also, heartwrenching backstory.**  
I rp as Matthew, my friend as Ivan (yes he is the same Ivan as my other story, Lost Hope Rekindled, which is being worked on as well)

Ivan wakes up in the hospital. He's tired, sure, but nothing else. He doesn't feel too bad, so much as he feels groggy. When he looks around, he sees an unfamiliar man sitting there. The male perks up and starts talking. Says something about how he's from the homeowner's association and he had been coming over to do an inspection on the kitchen after the fire. The man says he found Ivan partway up the stairs and that he was scared or whatnot so he brought him here. Ivan is informed that he has pneumonia. Apparently someone can catch the bug but it usually doesn't affect healthy people unless they're exposed to something that weakens their immune system; like standing out in the rain for an hour or two.

Checking the time and date, it's Sunday evening, and he's been on antibiotics since he was found Saturday night. He's been cleared to leave as soon as someone will come get him (since he's a minor). Knowing that the kid's mother wouldn't come, the man suggested they lie and say he's the father, so they do, and Ivan is driven home. Thanking the guy, he heads back into the house with some medication bottles and finds his mother asleep on the couch. Clearing his throat, he notices the time is 7:12pm, and he sighs and picks her up, walking her to her bedroom.

Ivan doesn't think Matthew will come today, but he figures he can wait a little bit. He's not contagious, but they did warn him that he was running a slight fever and that he could experience some more 'delirium'. Feeling normal and healthy, aside from being overly hot, he sits in the kitchen and waits for the kettle to boil. He definitely had some thanks to give when he saw that kid next- if Matthew hadn't been killed or something by that bastard father of his.

Vindictive, and curiously possessive, Ivan decides he knows how he might properly return the favor.

Matthew eventually crawled into bed and curled up in a tight ball, silent tears streaming down his cheeks and wetting his pillow. His body hurt, his side was on fire from the vicious kick and it hurt to breathe more than a shallow gasp.

He drifted off only to jerk awake when he heard his father stomp past, shrinking into his blanket fearfully. The blond stayed awake for most of the night, eyes bright with tears as he waited for his father to burst into his room and drag him from his bed.

Sunday was spent holed up in his room. His father didn't like to see him after he hit him like that, so he would shy away and lick his wounds as best he could. When he looked in the mirror he saw that his face was covered in molted bruises, a cut across his cheekbone. There was a large bruise on his side, fading from dark purple to a sickly yellow. Touching it made him hiss and twitch and he wondered if his rib was cracked. It wouldn't be the first time.

His clock read 7:32 and he suddenly remembered that he was supposed to go over to Ivan's house. It hurt to move, but he didn't want to leave Ivan there is he was still sick. He would need someone to be there to take care of him since his mother certainly wasn't going to. Matthew would feel guilty if he just left him there when he was in need.

The next thirty minutes were spent wrapping his chest in an ace bandage to minimize the pain when he bumped against anything, and covering his bruises in foundation. He couldn't do anything but cover the cut in a band-aid and hope that Ivan wouldn't ask about it.

Matthew slipped out the window, dropping down to the ground quietly. He ran across the road, glancing furtively behind him as he knocked on the door, brushing his hair so that his bangs hung in front of his face a little to help hide the make-up.

There's a knock and Ivan is in the kitchen with a cup of cocoa. He prefers tea, but the last time his mother caught him with some she called him a faggot and threw it all in the toilet. She asked him if he'd like a crumpet with that and smacked him upside the head. He'd laughed about that one later. Sometimes it was fun hearing the insults people came up with. Also entertaining was when the plumber had to be called and asked about the Boston Tea Party going on in the drainage pipe.

Setting his cup down, he walks across to the door. His body only aches a little, but mostly from not drinking anything. Opening the door, he wonders if Matthew really thinks he wouldn't notice. Even if he couldn't tell there was make-up, he would be able to see the demeanor- no proud, defiant eyes stared at him with disrespect and contempt. Instead, the head was tilted down somewhat, dismissive. He knows Matthew doesn't want him to bring it up, so he moves aside to let the kid in. Closing the door behind him, he thinks better of it; who worries about Ivan except for Matthew? It only made sense for him to worry, too.

"Hey," voice soft, he brushes fingers through Matt's bangs, easing them aside gently.

"I don't know why you try to keep this from me." Looking over Matthew's clothes, he wonders if there's bruising anywhere else. Motioning to the kitchen, Ivan lets the topic go.

"I wasn't sure you'd come, but I made hot chocolate."

Matthew glanced up at Ivan through his bangs when he opened the door. He glanced away, feeling self-conscious of the make-up and wondering if he had done it up well enough. He edged into the house, thin fingers clenched in his shirt hem.

Blue eyes widened in shock and he looked up at Ivan with round eyes, the tender fingers going through his bangs making his breath shudder. Guilt washed over him again, and he wondered why he felt like that. He didn't owe Ivan anything, so why did he feel like he ought to tell him what happened?

Long habit kept his mouth sealed together, even as his cheeks burned with shame. He shouldn't have to hide the evidence of an abusive father, but he didn't want others to know how weak he was and telling them would only bother them.

The boy trailed after the taller male, kicking his shoes off at the front door. His stomach rumbled loudly, testament of his two day fast. His abdomen hurt, both from his empty stomach and his bruised side. Hopefully Ivan wouldn't find out about that too, he didn't know how he would react to that.

The walk to the kitchen was short, and he chuckled softly when he heard the grumble. Glancing over his shoulder, entertained by the sound, he decides maybe more than a drink is in order. Ivan does all of the cooking, so it shouldn't be too hard to find something. He packaged all the left-overs and lunches ahead of time. There was definitely something to give.

It didn't take too long to whip up a second mug, and then he was sliding it across the table.

"You have a routine when you and your dad fight." Opening the fridge, he looks over this or that, trying to guess what Matthew would like, and then he pulls out a glass Tupperware container. It was potato chowder, since potatoes were pretty much his favorite food, and he popped it into the microwave.

"You don't eat, and you get defensive. Maybe a little standoffish. I'm pretty annoying, you should just accept that I'm going to get in your business." Slipping back into his seat, he nods across the table as he takes a drink.

"My dad used to hit on me and my mom. I ended up hitting him back and he got scared of me. My mom was always so embarrassed when she got a bruise, she'd hide it, like something was wrong with her and not my dad." There's a beep, and he gets back up. Grabbing a spoon and pulling the container out, he slides it across the table, too.

"If you ever decide you want to stop him, all you have to do it say so. I can make it so he'll never touch you again."

Matthew sat down on a stool, curling his feet under it and hooking them behind the bar at the bottom. He looked down into the dark drink, thin fingers cupping it hesitantly. He hadn't realized that he had been so obvious. Maybe he was just so used to not being seen that he hadn't realized that he couldn't hide very well.

That Ivan could see through him so easily was frightening because they had only known each other for barely a week. The boy was a bit shocked when the other said he had hit his dad. That was a novel idea for him, something he had never really considered. Ivan's mother sounded like him, always scared that someone would find out and start looking at him differently.

His stomach growled fiercely at the smell of food and he winced as his stomach ache grew. Maybe it would be a good idea to eat now. The boy gingerly picked up the spoon, mixing up the chowder so it was the same temperature, pretty much, throughout. He went to eat it, but made a face and set the spoon down again. Even though he was hungry, his body didn't want him to eat.

"What good would you hitting him do?" Matthew asked, his voice quieter than usual. "He'd just keep hitting me when you weren't there...It wouldn't solve anything but make him call the cops on you."

"Did I say I would hit him?" Ivan shrugs. Sure, he hit his own father, but he saw what happened because of that. The man had backed off Ivan and just hit his mother instead. It took him some time to realize it had happened, and when he did, he just beat the crap out of him until he had scared him enough. 'If I ever see a bruise on her again, you better know I'm coming for you'. It wasn't long after that that he never came back.

"Your dad has a nice job. Nice house. Nice kid. Nice car. He has a bunch of superficial friends; he has a Facebook, wasn't hard to find. He seems like a nice guy, there. Saw his LinkedIn profile. He has a nice resume. Child abuse and neglect cases come with a hefty fine, a felony, and five years in prison." Drinking, the way he's talking doesn't even make it seem like he's discussing how to ruin someone's life. But then, he doesn't care about Matthew's dad. It's the son he's worried about.

"I did consider just kicking the shit out of him, which given my amazing school record and such, he'd hard a very hard time pinning on me. I'm just saying. I have very few morals and I really dislike your dad or seeing you pretend you can walk properly in front of me. You can't even eat." Shrugging then, because he knows Matthew isn't the type who would go for that, he brings a hand to his head. There was a little bit of dizziness there, but he keeps quiet.

"Or... When I graduate in a couple months, you could just come live with me." It sounds like a proposal, and he worries about that for a second, but then hey- maybe it is. Ivan has no clue what's going on between the two of them, but apparently he's protective in some way. Live together? Shit.

"I'm a bastard, but I don't hit. I can cook. We're both smart. It's just a thought."

Matthew played with the chowder, trying not to throw up. This kind of talk was upsetting him and he wasn't quite sure why. Ivan was conspiring to send his father to jail on charges that would cost him his job, child, house, and reputation. And any money coming in to support Matthew. It didn't seem like this was real, sitting here with the boy that had blackmailed him and almost gotten him expelled and who was now talking about labeling his dad as a felon.

Of course, he wasn't a nice man, to him at least, but he did have a reason. It made Matthew tear up every time he thought about it, so he usually didn't dwell on it. It pained him too much.

When Ivan brought in his eating disorder, Matthew winced and looked down into the chowder. He knew his ways weren't healthy, but neither was throwing up everything you just ate. At least if he didn't eat he could retain fluids. As for walking properly...it just hurt too much to keep up the proper posture he always went for.

Blue eyes darted to the other boy's, wondering if he had heard him right. Live with him? How on earth could they pull that off? Pale brows knit together and he frowned at the other. "What? Live together? Have you even thought this through? You'd have to find an apartment, find a job, find someone to look after your mother because Heaven knows she can't do it herself. You'd have to get custody of me, which could take months and would leave me in a Child Services house during that time. My father would come after me when he got out of prison, so we would have to move, that would involve me changing schools if he gets out early and living in constant fear of him, even more than I already am. And you're asking me to move in with someone who blackmailed me and almost expelled me from the school I've wanted to get into for years all on a whim!" He was shaking, he knew that, but he was just too furious. "What kind of prank are you trying to pull on me!" Matthew realized he was shouting, as loudly as he could which really wasn't all that loud, and that his vision was blurring, but he didn't care.

He stood up abruptly, feeling a headache, probably from lack of food, pounding at his skull and making tears well up in the corners of his eyes. His stool clattered behind him, hurting his ears with the sudden, loud sound. The boy gripped the counter of the island hard to keep from falling as he swayed. "I'm leaving." He whispered hoarsely, turning to leave. Barely five steps towards the living room, he stumbled over his own feet and hit his knees with a yelp. Wincing and aching, he clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from throwing up and wrapped another around his throbbing side, curling over his lap as he struggled to keep his writhing emotions and bodily functions under control.

Wow, he wonders whether or not Matthew actually understood what he was saying. 'Let's just tell your father if he doesn't stop that we'll take this to the police'. Ivan doesn't realize that the kid thought he meant turning him in. It was supposed to be a threat, and he'd been naming all the things the father would have to consider being able to lose. The last thing he wanted was for Matthew's father to go to jail; Matthew would leave, then. He may be concerned, but he's more selfish than that.

There's yelling, sure, and Ivan wonders just what Matthew thinks of him. It's obviously not good. Obviously involves him being an idiot- 2nd or 3rd in the school, and Matthew is insinuating that he's a fool. No, rather, blatantly claiming it. Ivan is moving at the end of the school year. Into an apartment, with work-study at University. Of course, Matthew has never actually asked him about his life, everything he has said was willing. Maybe this actually was just one-sided. 'This'?

He wonders when Matthew will realize just how in control he is of the boy's school situation. No one will remember this. He wouldn't have done it if he wasn't 100% sure things would work out. Sighing, he just nods when Matthew begins to get up. That is, of course, until Matthew shows weird signs of who-knows-what, and then he's toppling over.

Ivan jumps from his seat and is kneeling on the floor in a matter of second.

"Hey, hey-" Annoyed at the situation, he hears sounds from his mother's room. 'Ivan?' And he does all he can think to do. Shifting, he lifts Matthew from the ground, and fuck if this kid thinks he's going home. He can see there's pain as he lifts, proving there's further damage, but he shuts up as he makes it up the stairs. Closing the door with his foot, he flicks the light off and sets the boy on his bed.

"Shut up with your self-righteous bullshit. Just fucking concentrate on being okay-" Pulling a trash bin over, he nods to it.

"Throw up in there if you need to." Crouching next to the bed, he sighs, looking the pained body over.

"And stop treating me like I'm retarded, okay? I never did that to you. The worst I did was get you in trouble with teacher's who already forgot you and what happened. Your did hits you, and you're yelling at the one person who gives a fuck. If you want to be mad, fine, I'm not going anywhere, but at least do it when you're not about to fall over and die."

Matthew almost lost what little was in his stomach when Ivan hauled him up so suddenly. The pain in his side wasn't helping his nausea any and he bit down hard on his lip to keep from up chucking all over Ivan's shirt. He felt so little being carried up the stairs by the other boy as if he weighed nothing, and he probably didn't. It had been a while since he'd gotten up the courage to weigh himself.

He moaned unhappily as he was set down on the bed, trying to ignore the fire burning a hole through the skin on his side. Now he was certain one of his ribs was at least cracked, otherwise it wouldn't hurt to damn much. The trash can looked like Heaven on Earth and he clutched it weakly, leaning over the side of the bed to empty his stomach into the bin. He shook as he laid back on the bed, trembling weakly as he curled up on his good side. After throwing up, well, kinda dry heaving a little and spitting up something, he felt a tad bit better, but nausea still twisted his stomach and his side was still making him feel like a stuck pig.

"Why-" He broke off to cough into his fist. "Why do you even care?" The boy asked in a weak whisper, turning wet, tormented eyes on Ivan. "I'm nothing but a curiosity to you." Why did those words hurt so much? "And my father hits me for a reason..." He trailed off softly, almost silently. It wasn't something he talked about often, and certainly not to people at school.

"Why do you want me to be okay? You said yourself that you didn't care about me, just about finding things out about me." He tentatively laid a hand on his side, flinching and wondering how he was going to withstand a broken rib for the next month and a half or so.

Ivan looked away as Matthew did his business with the garbage can. He could clean it in the shower later, and really, he just didn't want his mom to find someone in the house. She had moods, and while she never hurt guests, she always had something to say. It wasn't pleasant being slapped by a small woman and being called names. The words are usually what hurt, even if he was fairly good at deflecting it all by now.

"Did I say that? That you were a curiosity? I was curious, sure, but I don't think that's what I said." Then more words and he looks to the ground. Perhaps he had said some things that might have made all of this a little more confusing than he'd meant for it to. Clearing his throat, he sits back so his behind is resting on his ankles. It's comfortable like this, and he's hot and this situation is only raising the temperature.

"Does it look like I don't care? Regardless of what I said, or whether I meant it when I said it, does it look like I mean it now? Isn't it obvious why I want you to be alright? You know I'm not a nice person, that I'm selfish and rude and that I only do what interests me- so why would this kind of person care about your health? Logically, it must be a selfish reason. I asked you to move in with me, Matthew. What could I possibly be interested in?" By the end of his, his tone was a little impatient. But he sighs and shakes his head.

"Just... Okay. You've alluded to this before, just tell me. Why does he hit you, Matthew?"

Matthew was thoroughly confused. All of what Ivan was saying was alluding to something like in one of his books, like when the selfish prince falls in love with the lowly pauper and doesn't know how to confess his adoration for her, so he just acts like a jerk until the pauper's in trouble and he has to reveal his true feelings. But he wasn't a talented and beautiful woman hidden among the slums of the city or London, he was an invisible boy with an abusive father.

The boy closed his eyes, swallowing around the taste of stomach acid in his mouth. He hadn't wanted to tell Ivan this, but he felt he ought to. Then maybe he would understand why he didn't tell anyone. "When-when my mother was alive, she and my brother, my twin, Alfred, were the only ones that noticed me." He began softly, eyes still closed. "Al and I always played together and the other boys would come up and ask Al why he was playing by himself. Mama would smile at me and say I was too precious to be noticed by boys like that, and that only people who really loved me could see me."

"After a while, when I was about four or five, I forget, my father would start forgetting about me. To begin with, it was only little things, like forgetting to give me a toy when he gave Alfred one, or forgetting to put me in the high chair for a moment. But then he would forget to feed me when he fed Alfred. Mama was at work at night and she looked after us during the day, so she couldn't be with us all the time." Matthew paused, swallowing past the knot in his throat. "After a while, she noticed that I wasn't getting as big as Alfred was. My father kept forgetting me at mealtime so I would go hungry. They got into fights over me, Mama would accuse him of doing it on purpose and loving Al more, things like that. Al ad I would curl up in out bed whenever they had a fight. When we were about seven, I think, Mama divorced my dad. She tried to get both of us, on ground of neglect, but the judge ruled that she would have Al and my dad would get me. My brother and Mama disappeared, moved away so Mama wouldn't have to be around my dad. I found out later..." He curled up tighter. "I heard that Mama had committed suicide rather than live without both of her babies. My father had driven her into depression by forgetting me. He blamed me for it, and it was my fault, so he began to hit me. I never spoke up when he forgot me, never did anything to regain his attention...I don't know where Al went, no one ever bothered to tell me. I'm not even sure if he's still alive..."

Ivan listens patiently, bothered more and more as the story continued. Chances were that if the mother committed suicide, the child was taken to the next of kin. Since the father had already been questioned about neglect, likely they were put into foster care. That sounded really shitty, but something about Matthew being a survivor made him think that this 'Al' would likely have to be alive.

"Yeah, Matthew that's not your fault. Your father being a complete failure as a parent is not your fault. Your mother told you that only people who loved you could see you, so it's not your fault that your father didn't love you enough. He's a piece of shit and you and your mother and brother deserved better than that. Blaming yourself? Don't do that. The only mistake made was that the judge didn't give you both to her." Annoyed, he frowns into the ground and then shifts so he cat sit up on his knees. Overlooking the kid somewhat, he shakes his head. Brushing the same bangs aside to look at the covered bruise, he frowns.

"You think this was your fault? Who started the holocaust? The Jews? Damn them for being Jewish? Or was it the Germans?" Looking over the body, he places a hand over fabric at Matthew's torso. Was it here? This is where he gripped earlier, wasn't it?

"I'm sorry that happened. 'Al' is alive, look at you- you were left behind with some asshole and you're surviving. He's probably doing the same, hoping you're okay." Nodding, he takes in a slow breath and then looks to the curled form. He never even wanted to hurt his father as much as he wanted Matthew's to regret it.

"Anyway. You gonna let me see it? This other one?"

Tears glistened in his eyes as he looked at Ivan. Remembering his mother's suicide and his brother's disappearance always pained him. It wasn't fair that Mama and Al were taken away from him, but the court had ruled that he would be left with his father. They were they ones that helped Mama commit suicide. They took his brother away.

Matthew listened to Ivan with half a heart, trying to make himself believe what he was saying, hoping that this overwhelming sense of loss and guilt would lessen some if he thought that he wasn't to blame for their leaving.

He flinched, biting down on his lip hard to keep from crying out when Ivan touched his side. "A-actually, i-it was more Hitler and the Nazi party that started t-the war." Matthew said with a teeny smile, even though his small frame shook in pain. He really hoped that Ivan was right, that his twin really was out there, hoping to run into him someday and be happily reunited again.

"You haven't even seen the first two." Matthew muttered under his breath quietly, giving in and gingerly picking up the hem of his shirt and slowly pulling it over his side so that it wouldn't touch his skin. Beneath the fabric he was thin and lean, little more than skin and bones, and his entire right side was multicolored with different spots of purple, blue, green and yellow. The boy winced at the sight, feeling sick again. He laid his head back on the pillow, fighting against his nausea again.

"Wow, yeah, so you just missed the entire point. I don't know why you couldn't just take it figuratively." Laughing, his eyes drop to the skin being exposed. Blinking as it starts and then the bruise just keeps going- Ivan is almost horrified. To think that Matthew would come over with that kind of injury.

Emerald orbs flicker from sallow skin to bright blue eyes and then back. Holy shit. This is too much. This is... This is so fucking wrong. Everything about this, God, he can feel his temper flare as he looks at it. This is not... okay. This is the only time he's ever been thankful that he was studying to enter a University medical program.

"Matthew, this is internal bleeding." Matthew probably knew that. "I mean, something in there is broken." Matthew probably knew that, too. "You can't keep moving around like that." Matthew probably wouldn't go to a hospital.

"At least let me wrap you properly, alright?" Rising, he walks to his closet and exits with a black bag. Returning to the bed, he unzips it and pulls out a couple long pieces of gauze and tape.

"Don't ever help me if it'll lead to this. It's nice, but I don't want it."

Matthew watched the horror dawn across Ivan's face, feeling strangely detached from the situation. He blinked tiredly at him, the whole day of fighting off the pain was getting to him.

He nodded when Ivan pointed out the obvious, having already known how badly he was injured. It was unfortunate, but it was already done. Besides, if he went to a hospital, the most they could do was give him some pain meds and wrap him up like Ivan was going to do. The boy struggled to sit up as the elder rooted through his closet, gasping in sharp breaths as he clenched his teeth. It hurt so much. His entire side felt like nails and knives were being dug into it.

The blond rested against the headboard, panting softly and looking up at Ivan. "B-but you needed my help." The boy insisted quietly, earnest eyes looking up at him intently. "Besides, people would actually miss you if you didn't go to school or get into university. You've got a chance at a good future." As cruel as it was, it was true. What future could he have if no one noticed him, not even his teachers? The best he could do was odd jobs maybe, try to get a steady job with someone who noticed him enough to remember to sign his paychecks. Perhaps he could even get a job somewhere where they had automated paychecks and he wouldn't have to worry about a person forgetting him. Though, there was the off-chance that machines could forget him, too.

As Matthew adjusted and sat up, he was obtaining clips and such. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he lifts Matt's shirt and prompts to kid to hold it there. Setting a thin, soft pad down, he attaches a wrap piece to it and leans closer to pass the wrap-fabric behind the blonde's back. Repeating this a few times, intentionally putting their proximity out of his mind, he struggles once or twice to get it over a shoulder without removing the shirt. When he finishes it, he clips it closed twice and then sits back.

"Remember what your mom told you about who could see you?" Dropping some materials back into the pack, he stands and sets it on one of the chairs. It's mostly dark in the room- he was kind of nervous that his mom would notice, or that Matthew's dad might even see them across the way. The street lamps pour in, but nothing else besides that.

"Have you ever considered why I could?" This is about as close to a confession as he can get, because really, he doesn't understand it either. Instead, he just kind of hopes he'll win out in the end.

"You really should think about moving in with me."

Matthew's face burned as Ivan practically hugged him in order to get the wrap around him. Being so close to another person and having that person know he was there was an odd experience and he had only experienced it a few times. With Ivan though, he found it seemed much more intimate. The older boy was gentle with his touches, not wrapping the bandage too tightly so it wouldn't hurt him much, and careful not to jar him or bump his side.

Only people who love you can see you. That's what he had remembered most about this mother, that she cared enough about him to be able to see him. Ivan...he'd only known Ivan, no that wasn't right...he'd only grown closer to Ivan this past week or so. Before that he hadn't even known the other boy had even known he went to their school, much less that he was alive. But he had noticed him, he had been intrigued by him, Matthew of all people. Could you fall in love with someone simply by watching them?

Blushing darkly, Matthew let his bangs cover his eyes again, his chest feeling tight from the bandage. Apparently you could, if Ivan was telling the truth. He didn't know how he felt about another boy loving him, he'd never been in anything like this kind of situation before. "I-I'll think about it." That was probably all he could promise.

It was slightly awkward because Matthew is really horrible about expressing his thoughts or feelings. Ivan can't possibly know what deduction the kid came to, only the one he thinks might have happened. Wondering about it, he thinks Matthew's mother might have been on to something. It seemed ridiculous, but maybe Ivan was meant to stumble upon this little invisible boy. Maybe only those destined to love him would-

Snorting, he shakes his head. How ridiculous is that? Like he's some stupid kid who believes in fairy tales or something. More importantly, however, apparently weird things do happen. If Matthew can go unnoticed practically his whole life, then maybe weirder things could occur. Like 'destiny' and all that other bullshit.

There's a piece of him that knows he might have done better off not saying that. Given how his mother reacts to the idea of liking the same gender, he supposes it might be right to fear telling anyone. Let alone liking anyone. Somehow... he knows Matthew wouldn't do that to him. He might not approve, but he wouldn't scorn Ivan with it, wouldn't make him feel bad about it.

Sitting back on the bed, he glances to the window, then across the street.

"Do you need to go home? Or could I convince you to stay?"

There had never really been awkward moments in Matthew's life where both parties were aware of the awkwardness. Mostly it was just Matthew trying to be noticed and then a brief acknowledgement before everyone went back to what they were doing and forgot about him.

He fidgeted with the bandage before pulling his shirt back down, feeling self-conscious of his body. He'd never been noticed before, so he had never given his body much thought. Now he felt like he was too thin, rather gaunt. It bothered him a little how much thought he put into how Ivan thought about him. Perhaps it was once again because he noticed him when no one else did.

"I-I..." He swallowed a bit, knowing his father would blow a gasket if he found out. "I don't want to go home..." The blond admitted softly, curling his knees to his chest. "I'm scared..."

It was normally something he would never say, even if no one ever heard him. Being scared as for babies or softies, and he was anything but soft living with his father. But he did scare him, he frightened him more than anything and right now, he just wanted to feel safe.

That was probably the saddest confession he'd ever heard. Matthew looked so weak and small when he said it, that Ivan could only raise both of his brows in worry. Well like hell he's going home tonight, then. Fuck, if Ivan had it his way, Matthew would never go back there again, and the two of them would be happy and successful and that old bastard would rot miserably.

Blinking, he rewinds on his thoughts and recognizes how much trouble he's in. Already he thinks about them as a pair, and not two separate people. This might not be healthy, actually. If he was smart, he might consider putting some space between them, but almost exactly at the time he thought it, he scoots a little closer.

"You're staying the night. We'll think of a good excuse before you head back. I'll have you up before you're supposed to make breakfast-" God, Ivan, you sound like a stalker when you know these things, like you watch him or something. Admittedly, Ivan did watch him for weeks before bothering to approach.

"Just... Shit, just get a good night's sleep for once, okay? You've got these lines under your eyes..." He wants to touch more, wants to feel the size of Matthew's wrist, anything. Instead, he wets his lips and clenches both fists to keep them still.

"I'll make sure you're okay."

The boy looked up at Ivan and smiled a bit. How sweet of him, he's all worried about him and getting flustered. It was odd how he looked when he was flustered. But Matthew liked it when he was.

Small hands fiddled with his shirt as he glanced out the window, suddenly realizing he could see his room from Ivan's window. That wasn't creepy in the slightest. But he was being so kind to him now, protecting and caring for him. Hell, he was a better father than his father was, even if he had different end results in mind.

"W-where are you going to sleep?" Matthew asked, his eyes already droop, ready to erase those lines under themselves. But he didn't want to boot Ivan out of his own bed, he was sick too. "You know...it's quite novel that you notice things like that." He couldn't help but point that out, amazed at how many things Ivan had pointed out to. The boy rubbed his thin wrist in one hand, thinking. "Are you certain that I can stay the night?"

Already getting up and pulling blankets and padding out of his closet, he makes the answer clear. It's traditional to have your guest take the bed, especially when they have some sort of broken bone. This fucking little blond kid here is still thinking he's a piece of shit, still thinking he doesn't deserve the bed. If he wasn't already wounded, Ivan would want to pop him upside the head.

Dropping the contents into a pile, he begins straightening them and creating layers. His carpet is pretty plush already, so it's not like it should be very hard.

"Novel? I appreciate your word choice." Situating things, he realizes that neither of them are wearing pajamas of any kind. Curious, he wonders if he might have something that would fit Matthew- maybe old clothing from before his growth spurt. He wears a t-shirt and flannel pants to bed, so he pulls out a change for himself, and after a couple minutes rifling through things in his closet, he returns with a set. Probably still a little big, but definitely manageable.

Offering it out, he nods.

"Yeah. Rather, I insist. Just, let me know if you need anything. If you get hungry in the night or thirsty."

Matthew watched him, still propped up against the headboard. His small hands clenched in the blanket as he watched Ivan fix up the pallet. It didn't seem right to him that he was kicking Ivan out of his bed, even if he was hurt.

Ivan's response made him smile, just a tiny one that said he liked the other boy's interest in his vocabulary. Matthew took the clothes that were held out to him, surprised to see they were pajamas. He normally slept in just his boxers, but that was probably inappropriate when sleeping over at someone else's house. The boy carefully slid out of the bed, wobbling on his feet a little as a wave of dizziness made his head spin. It passed and he took a breath to steady himself before slowly pulling his shirt over his head.

Stretching his side hurt a hell of a lot, making tears pop into his eyes. But he had endured it climbing out of his window, so he could stand it now. He slipped Ivan's shirt over his head, letting it fall down around him. It was baggy, slipping off one shoulder and dangling past his hips. Even the sleeves went past his elbows. That done, he debated just taking off his pants instead of bending over and dealing with the pain of the action. Kicking them off would be a lot less painful, but he had to take into account how Ivan would feel, even if he had basically confessed to him five minutes ago.

Matthew glanced up at Ivan through his bangs, gnawing on his bottom lip gently as he contemplated his options. He decided that he would put on the bottoms. The boy bent over, easing his pants off and kicking them off before carefully pulling up the bottoms. Face contorted in pain, he tied them off and caught his breath.

It was only logical that Ivan wouldn't watch Matthew change. Of course, he had also expected the teen to head into the bathroom, but as it was, he hears rustling and glances. Shirt is lifting over head, and even the bruise there- occupying most of the kid's right side- isn't enough to stop his gaze from softening. He looks away, hoping he was respectful enough to catch himself in time, and then he flips the blanket open. It would be awkward of him, since Matthew was changing here, if he went and changed out of view, wouldn't it? Would it make his little blonde (his?) feel weird?

Shrugging, since this is how two guys having a sleepover act, he can appreciate that he's being treated like a normal person. Grasping the hem of his shirt, he peels it up and over his head in one motion. Slipping the other one on, he intentionally doesn't look around. Fingers deal with the front of his pants, and then he's easing them off. Tossing them at his laundry hamper, he tugs on his shorts and flips open his blankets. He left space for Matthew to get up without bothering him, but he was between the bed and the table.

Setting the alarm clock, he finally checks the boy out, making sure he got changed alright. This is, of course, when he recognizes naked shoulder-blade and he swallows and let's his gaze flicker elsewhere. It's not like he's a beast, he has control and he's not about to do anything, but- But Matthew looks really smooth despite his roughed up appearance.

"I'll re-wrap it when you come back next." Lowering to his make-shift bed, he shifts inside and tugs the comforter up.

"Don't be afraid to wake me up. I'm a light sleeper, so you just have to say something." Nestling in, he closes his eyes.

"Night, Matthew."

While Ivan got dressed, Matthew was taking the time to calm his breathing so it wouldn't hurt his side as much. He was already sore and weak, but he still had something to do. "I'll be right back." The boy said, making sure he didn't stare too much as Ivan dressed. It wasn't right for him to stare, even if he couldn't help himself. Ivan just looked so strong in comparison to him, he wasn't covered in bruises and he wasn't thin from hunger either.

Shaking his head a little, and regretting the motion, the blond slipped into Ivan's bathroom quietly, so as to not wake his mother up. He looked like crap in the mirror. His eyes had dark lines under them and his foundation was smudging. Matthew sighed and scrubbed the make-up off, revealing the dark bruises on his chin and cheek. How would Ivan react to seeing them? He could have just left the make-up on, but he didn't want to get it all over Ivan's pillow.

Matthew shuffled back to the boy's room, glad the lights were off so Ivan couldn't see him as well. He slipped into bed with a muffled moan and pulled the blankets over him with a sigh. He was exhausted, almost forgetting to pull his glasses off before he closed his eyes. "Night...Ivan..." He murmured sleepily.

As if it only made sense that sleeping would be difficult with Matthew in the room, Ivan struggles to rest. His eyes are closed but he remains overly sensitive to that fact that there is a secondary presence. Quietly, he can hear another person breathing, and struggles with the idea that he is so close. It didn't seem right, of course, that he be thinking like this while it's clear that Matthew is in no position to be social, let alone romantically inclined.

Ivan forgives himself. He is only a man, after all. Rolling over, he hopes that facing the opposite direction will help him embrace slumber. Rather than this actually happening, he hears rustles louder, is able to focus more intently on inhales and exhales. With his lids shut, he has flickers of the image of Matthew lying in his bed. Eventually it's coupled with remnants of his dream, and he lets his imagination go. It's bed time, it's not like there's any harm in it anyway.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he determines that caving in mentally makes it difficult to convince himself to not actually do it. This seems rational enough, although being inconvenient and, well, tedious. Without a sense of time, he shifts about. It's too hot and he tucks the blanket down to his waist, and he hugs himself. This was dangerous- no, no, because he wouldn't risk it. He's not going to do anything, even if he can't stop thinking about it.

Flashes of Matthew's surprised expression, of naked stomach- he can even remember the warmth. Stop, ugh, please fucking stop. Shaking his head again, he rolls onto his back. Hopefully Matt is able to fall asleep- he really needs it.

Curled up on his left side, Matthew stared at the shifting figure on the floor. He had woken up long into the night, his pulse quickened from a dream. It had involved his father and himself, his father steadily drifting away and pain blooming over his body the further away his father grew. He was breaking, collapsing in on himself from the pain. But he soon realized that there was another figure growing through the mist around him, coming closer. Ivan stepped out of the mist and gently pulled him up, holding him close to his chest and petting his hair as he murmured reassurances in his ear as Matthew's body trembled in pain.

When Matthew woke up he realized the pain had come from rolling onto his right side. He quickly remedied it, sighing in relief as some of the fire went away. Ivan had rolled away from him and instead of going back to bed, Matthew gazed at the broad back of the older boy. What prompted him to help him? He wasn't anything special, so why bother with him?

In the back of his mind, he was wondering if his father had even realized he was gone. What would he say if he came back tomorrow? Could he be taken out of school if he didn't live with his father anymore? It was hard to imagine staying in his house after what had happened, especially with the blond staying away from home all night.

Was Ivan asleep? Was he relaxed? Did he mind that he was taking up his bed? Matthew sighed quietly, unable to fall asleep again after the nightmare, was it even a nightmare? It confused him immensely and he wasn't sure what would happen now. If he couldn't go back home, could he stay here? Ivan graduated in a few months, but legal battles could take years if his father decided he wanted to keep him. And even if he didn't, any relatives he might have would be dredged up and pulled into the battle.

As much as Ivan would like to say he wasn't troubled by Matthew being in his room, he was more affected than he had suspected. Of course he thought it would be difficult to sleep, knowing the kid was within arms reach if he wanted to be. What hadn't been theorized was that he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about how close he'd been when putting on the bandages. He can remember hearing shuddering breaths- from pain- and felt heat and his mind twists it to suit the incorrigible desires he's suffering through.

When he's had enough, he sits up and let's out a slow breath. Was he always this perverted? It was especially bad because it didn't suit the situation. Matthew had the shit kicked out of him, and a piece of his mind reiterates that it means the guy wouldn't be able to get away. Not a healthy thought process. Glancing to the bed, it looks like Matthew is sleeping, so he raises slowly and walks to the bathroom. Sure, he feels guilt, but if he can get this crap out of his head, maybe he can sleep.

There's a gradual light button on the side, which allows him to set the light to a lower setting. It's dim, so as not to wake anybody, and he frowns, disapproving of the bulge that's beginning, just from thinking- usually he has to watch something, this is shocking. Frowning, he dips his fingers inside fabric and hopes Matthew doesn't wake up having to urinate.

It was an odd experience watching Ivan sleep. He looked restless and Matthew wondered if he was uncomfortable having to board him in his room. Should he have asked to sleep in another room? Now he felt worse, having kicked Ivan out of his bed even if he was injured.

The blond stiffened when Ivan looked at him, blushing darkly in shock Could he see that he was awake? Apparently not, since he sat up and threw the blanket off of him and went into the bathroom. Could he not sleep? Matthew sat up slowly, feeling stiff and propping himself up on the pillows. Hopefully he wasn't frustrated about Matthew being here. That would just make him feel so terrible.

The boy jumped again when he heard soft sounds. They didn't sound like Ivan was relieving himself. Did he hurt himself or something? It kind of sounded like it, from the gasps and hisses he could hear. Maybe he'd hit his hand on the counter or something, but Matthew hadn't heard a bang that would hint to that. Perhaps he cut himself somehow.

Throwing the blankets off of him, the injured boy slowly swung his legs out of bed and carefully stood up. His head swam, but he ignored it, intent on finding out if Ivan was alright. The way to the bathroom seemed awfully long, but he managed it and twisted the doorknob open. The sight made him gasp loudly and blush, even as he clapped his hand over his mouth to keep quiet.

It was logically proceeding that he would grip himself, start stroking. In the beginning, he started out leaving the action in his pants. Leaning forward, one elbow resting on knee, he suddenly had all these images flooding over him, could almost remember the dream vividly, and he was pumping furiously. Without realizing it, his breath had harshened, and in no time, he tugged the shorts down to free himself.

The pictures aren't even entirely indecent as he fantasizes. They include Matthew's back as he sits and watches Doctor What's-his-name, and when he was crying talking about his mother and brother. Of course, there are also completely fabricated ones, too, where the kid is writhing beneath him, fingers gripping biceps and whimpering and palm is jerking quickly over the head of his erection as he thinks on it. He imagines the sound Matthew would make the first time he enters him just right, the gasp-

And there's a gasp.

Knuckles grip and he halts, not ready to look at the door. Fuck. How could this have happened any other way? He should have left the room, should have just walked it off, shouldn't have indulged himself. This... couldn't end well. Wetting his lips, he glances to the door and clears his throat. Just seeing the boy there, surprised and wide-eyed made his cock twitch. Aroused, his eyes travel down then back up the kid's body. His heart was beating so heavily, and before he even considers what he's about to say, he just speaks.

"You can come in, but either way you should close the door, Matthew."

The boy stood in shocked silence, a thick blush covering his cheeks. Ivan was there with his hand around his-oh hell. His cheeks were flushed with arousal and Matthew felt an answering twitch in his sweat pants. Who knew a nearly six foot teenager with amethyst eyes and a cynical attitude towards everything could look so enthralling sitting on a toilet with his hand around his cock and a thick blush on his cheeks.

Matthew swallowed thickly, a thick lump in his throat making the action difficult. His mouth was dry suddenly and he could feel his palm slipping on the door handle. The boy shivered minutely as Ivan spoke, his voice thick with arousal and making Matthew feel heady. How could his voice have gotten deeper? It made the blond's heart thump heavily and he thought it would burst out of his chest.

Come in? How could he come in when he was doing something like that? But his feet were already moving and he shuffled into the bathroom slowly, closing the door behind him. Leaning against the door, he fisted his hands at his sides, dipping his head so his bangs fell in front of his eyes a bit and he could hide his dark blush. Oh hell, why had he come in? There was no way this could get any more awkward for him.

The expected reaction was for Matthew to not enter, embarrassed, and then to exeunt. What did not happen was any of that, actually. Instead, it seemed the kid was thinking about this or that and then he moved forward. The door was being closed and Ivan's groin was suddenly on fire. Are you for real? Any way you looked at it, he had been inviting Matthew to join him or leave, and- And he feels like a lion with a lamb, preparing for a meal.

Shifting, he winces as he tucks himself away. He's not about to approach this situation with his dick out. Matthew looks so scared and, well, and shy. Standing, one eyebrow raised, he takes a couple steps until he's got a hand resting flat against the door, loosely pinning him there.

"What do you think you're doing?" Using his clean limb, he brushes the back of his knuckles to his friend's cheek and uncurls them to guide the younger boy's chin up.

"Are you teasing me?" There was some humor in his tone, but mostly need. Eyes flicker over the large bruise, and Jesus. There's a need to comfort, to care for, and he presses his lips to the non-discolored cheek, to jaw line, to neck. He doesn't advance, but this was more than he had expected anyway, so he relishes in the proximity.

"You should get back to bed."

Matthew relished the look of surprise that crossed Ivan's face, knowing he had expected him to leave. The boy watched as he stood, tucking himself in, and felt a little tingle of uncertainly. What was he doing, standing there and letting Ivan trap him against the door, no matter how loosely.

He looked up at the taller boy, shivering as Ivan tilted his chin up gently. His breath stuttered and his chest constricted in excitement. He watched the older boy glance to his bruised cheek and saw something, something warm, flash across his eyes. Matthew's eyes fluttered closed as kisses were pressed down his cheek and neck, tilting his head back to encourage him to do-something. Of course he wasn't teasing him, this was something he didn't understand, yet he knew that he wanted it.

"I-I don't want to." The words were whispered softly, as if he was scared to say them, but firm enough to convince himself that he was saying what he meant. The little blond tilted his head up, meeting Ivan's eyes, his own flickering shyly with the new situation. Normally he'd never have been attracted to another boy, but then again he'd never been attracted to anyone else either.

There was something hidden here. Something he struggled against, because Matthew received the affection well, he didn't shy back, didn't cringe. If anything, he stayed firm- but he didn't move into it either. He wasn't given permission of any kind, and that was really what disheartened him. Scaring someone into something like this was illegal, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Matthew like everyone else did.

Words. Words, and Ivan is searching that face, searching for acceptance or disapproval and eyes meet- he's fucking shocked. What a blanket statement, but Ivan doesn't care, he moves closer because he's tingling, he's thrumming and on fire, and he just /wants/. In this dim light, he can see mostly shadows, but he can still identify pink cheeks. A blush?

The injuries are all he's worrying about now, but he pushes that aside for now. Leaning, he brushes lips together, testing, and then he presses them to each other, kissing. It's tentative, because so many people are disgusted by two men, and at any second Matthew could awaken to this repulsion, too. Palm cupping jaw, his thumb shifts to the front of chin. Tongue dips along lower lip and he eases the mouth open; finds himself naturally closing the distance between their bodies.

Absently, he lifts the shirt at his own abdomen and guides one of Matthews hands until it's pressed to skin. He's a little nervous about touching the kid, knowing he's riddled with bruises, but there's nothing preventing the little blond from feeling Ivan.

Matthew stayed firm, not wanting to make the first move, but not wanting to scare Ivan off either. He knew this was a delicate situation, especially with his broken rib and bruises. The first thing to do, besides learning how to do all this, was to make sure Ivan knew he wanted this. Even if he had hated the boy at the beginning of their encounters, he somehow felt drawn to him now, as if he was his anchor in this world, weighing him down from simply floating away in his misery.

Ivan seemed shocked that he had agreed to stay, and for some reason, he found that rather funny. Maybe he would make a good case study, seeing as he kept surprising Ivan. The boy felt his breath come faster as the older student moved closer, bridging the gap between then until their chests almost bumped. When did Ivan get so handsome? He had never really noticed it until lately, how strong he looked, especially compared to his thin frame.

The little blond jumped when Ivan barely touched their lips together, his lips instantly tingling. He vaguely realized that that had been his first kiss, but then his second one is being pressed more firmly against his mouth and he just kinda melted into goo. There was nothing that he could imagine that could feel more right at this moment. Then Ivan moved closer again as he cupped his cheek and touched his tongue to his lower lip. Not really knowing what to do, he remembered seeing a couple kissing in the park with their mouths open, so he guessed that was what Ivan wanted him to do. Hesitantly, he parted his lips to the Russian's advances, wondering what would happen next.

Ivan was moving and Matthew jumped again when he took his hand, pressing it against his abs. When had he pulled up his shirt? Why was Matthew wasting time caring about when he had pulled up his shirt? The boy pressed his fingertips against Ivan's hot skin, marveling at the firmness of it. He ran his hand up, feeling the shirt he'd been wondering about come into contact with his hand. Continuing up, he felt Ivan's strong pecs against his palm and shivered.

Ivan's attention was broken up between two actions which were occurring simultaneously. First, the mouth was opening to him and he was taking advantage of that. Tilting his head, he slicks wet muscle over teeth. It's relatively easy to recognize Matthew's inexperience in this particular event, so he mumbles something about how their tongues are supposed to touch and chuckles. Catching the boy's lower lip, he sucks lightly and this is when the second action is grabbing his attention.

Matthew's hand is moving about- Ivan had almost suspected that the boy would have been too nervous to respond. Instead, the palm smoothed over skin, gaining confidence by the moment. It continues up to his chest, and he's loving every second of it. Touch more, touch everywhere- but worse than that, he just wants to feel everywhere, too. At this point he know's he's not gentle enough to do so, but he's so greedy; if only Matthew was healthy- he would tear it up.

Of course there's the initial fear that this is gross, but aside from that, he's feeling more and more reassured as his classmate seems curious. Curiosity is better than disgust in a lot of ways. He takes this time to dip his own fingers under some fabric- on the side the bruise is not- thinking it's vital that Matthew know how great someone else's touch can feel.

The feeling of Ivan running his tongue over his teeth was odd, and made him self-conscious because he hadn't brushed his teeth that night, but Ivan guidance helped a little. His lip twitched when the older boy took it between his teeth and shyly attempted the same action from before, running his tongue over Ivan's upper lip and then to his teeth. It wasn't as weird as he thought it would be.

His side ached a bit, not enough to completely tear his attention away from the boy in front of him, but enough to warn him not to get too carried away. The boy ran his hand up through Ivan's shirt, gently caressing his neck, wondering if he could ever get this perfectly sculpted. Sure, he would probably never get as big or thick as Ivan, but he could bulk up if he got over his body's aversion to eating when he was distressed.

Behind the slightly calm surface, Matthew could sense that Ivan was holding back with him, because he was injured no doubt, and he couldn't help but be moved by the concern for him, something he hadn't gotten to taste in a long time. Suddenly he jumped, everything set his nerves on edge now, when a hand slipped up his shirt. Instantly his side was on fire, but a good kind, radiating from Ivan's warm fingertips. How could such a little touch be so clarifying?

The response to his actions was so quick. A smile spreads over his features as Matthew appears to relax again, and he smooths the palm around the waist and up the kid's spine. It's not hurt back there- as far as he knows- so he doesn't feel much guilt getting a feel in. A shy tongue explores tentatively and he brushes his own against it. It's not like Ivan makes out with people often at all, especially with men, so he can appreciate the sensitivity he has to the actions- goosebumps raise over his arms and he gently drags his fingers down Matthew's back.

It was easy to slink into this, so as he becomes more comfortable (less afraid he was going to get slapped and judged), he finds his second hand leaving the door. The two rest carefully at hips for a moment until they slip back and casually cup cheek through fabric. It's a big step, sure, but relatively harmless. A soft, appreciative sigh releases from him and he enjoys the give under his fingers. He could feel warmth radiating through the thin layers, and he massages- intentionally keeping their hips separate. He doesn't want to escalate to a point where Matthew ends up getting hurt.

Every action and sound registers in his mind and is filed away. However this ends up, he's fairly certain that he'll be jerking himself to this encounter for weeks.

Matthew enjoyed the feeling of Ivan's hand tracking up his waist and spine, liking the heat spreading over his skin from the contact. It tingled a little, but there was certainly nothing wrong with it to him. How could anyone see this as bad? It was no different than a man and a woman kissing and touching in his mind.

Tongue against tongue and Matthew's shyly giggling into Ivan's mouth, entertained by the new experience. He had never kissed anyone before, so he hoped his inexperience wouldn't scare off the older boy. He could feel Ivan getting more courageous, bringing his other hand into play. Matthew squeaked as he was groped, blushing darkly as the two large hands squeeze his ass. A shiver ran up Matthew's spine and he whimpered softly in his throat, wanting more that he didn't know about.

He almost forgot about his injuries, concentrating so much on the boy in front of him. You'd think someone with a broken rib would pay attention to that most of the time, but apparently his first make out session was enough to distract him. Before now, the little blond had never experimented or done anything like this, too afraid that his father would catch him even though he heard other boys talk about it at school. Thus the blood rushing downward was a new experience and he could only guess that he was aroused, from what his anatomy books said.

The sounds Matthew was making made it difficult to take this serious. At first it was laughter, and he knew it was the kid's nerves, but it was still interesting. Following this was a short, high pitched sound- shock, he was sure- and he wonders what other noises were going to be released. That is, until he hears a sweeter one, one which definitely had a place in their activities, and his skin tingles. It was only once, but the breathy snippet was extremely seductive, even if Matthew hadn't meant to elicit that response.

Firmly, he presses a palm to the boy's lower back. He knows they can't rut, even if that's what his body is screaming at him to do, so he finds another method. He'd been masturbating, it shouldn't be far-fetched that he would want to grope the front, too. Release was kind of the point. His dominant hand drags across fabric until it's trailing over hip and lower abdomen. Keeping the boy's mouth engaged, he steps it up a notch and cups groin. There's relief when it's not flaccid, and he breaks the kiss. First, he looks down between them to the slight bulge, then over to his own tent, and then he glances back up to the blonde's face.

"Tell me if you want to stop, alright?" As he speaks, he rubs the heel of his palm against the hardened organ- hand in back ready to catch in case knees give out.

"I won't be mad."

He hadn't meant to let that little whimper out, hadn't wanted Ivan to think he was in pain from their actions. What if he stopped? Matthew would have to jump him, even if he didn't know what to do exactly. How did two guys even have sex? Would he let Ivan go that far on his first sexual experience? He felt like he wouldn't, but there was no telling if he kept it up with that tongue and his hands.

Matthew thoroughly enjoyed the hand at the bottom of his spine, always having known it was particularly sensitive, but not knowing it could feel this nice to have someone else touch it. Warm touches traveled back to his front, playing with the skin on his hip bone before moving down and pressing against his crotch. Ivan's mouth swallowed up his sudden moan as his hips rocked forward instinctively. As Ivan pulled away, the boy whined softly, curling his hand against the older boy's chest. Why was he stopping now? He wanted to kiss him some more!

The blond's eyes rolled back in his head, completely ignoring what Ivan said as pleasure jumped through his body. Oh damn! /This/ was what being aroused felt like? How in the hell did he go his entire life without figuring this out? Wasn't he supposed to be smart? The hand against Ivan's chest tightened into a fist, the other finding leverage in the president's shirt. He let out a long moan, biting on his lower lip to keep his voice down.

There was no reply, and instead, there were moans and he was being pulled closer, and Jesus he was suddenly very, very hard. The tug on his shirt and the way Matthew's head falls back is encouragement as he proceeds to rub. It appears as though this is being approved of, though, so he swallows and takes it a step further. Retracting his hand, he eases the elastic down Matt's hips and ventures inside. There's underwear, sure, but the layer between is so damn thin he can feel the beginning moisture there.

Outlining the length, he strokes casually, kissing and nipping at neck. The shoulder is exposed so he leaves open mouthed kisses along it. His impatience begins to show through as he places pressure over the entire girth, running up and down the erection, further until he touches testicle and squeezes softly. More, fuck, he just wants to feel more and taste- he wants it in his mouth, but he has to work his way there.

Slipping beneath a second elastic band, he finally wraps fingers around engorged flesh, skin to skin. There's a little bit of adjustment, and he edges a knee between Matthew's thighs, gently forcing them apart. Stroking, he coddles, hand in back gripping buttocks as he works the taut arousal.

Oh hell, he definitely needed to trying this again. Say again how he never figured this out before? The boy is in heaven, gnawing on his bottom lip as he shuddered delightedly. He pressed his head back against the door, feeling himself grounded a bit with the sudden thunk.

All rational thought flew from his mind as Ivan slipped his hand into his sleeping pants, pulling them down and gently caressing him through his boxers, suddenly wet and Matthew wondered if he'd wet himself and not noticed. Surely Ivan would have pulled his hand away if he thought he had. That didn't seem very sexy.

Matthew gasped, jerking forward as Ivan stroked him, pressing his face into his chest, surprised by the suddenness and force of the pleasure. He moaned softly as Ivan kissed his shoulder, feeling slightly ticklish, but not enough for it to make it feel bad, if anything it made it feel much better. How was he going to endure all this pleasure with Ivan continuing on so quickly? Though the thought flew from his head like a rocket when Ivan slid his fingers beneath his boxers, wrapping his long fingers around him and making him feel oh so good. He gladly spread his legs for the older boy, too entranced by the pleasure to think about telling him no. Even the hand on his ass felt wonderful.

Somehow, surprisingly, Matthew seemed to just be okay with everything that happened. Rather, even more than merely accepting the behavior, he also responded positively. It seemed like there was something at work here which he didn't quite understand- Had Matthew never...? Maybe he'd never fooled around with someone before, because each touch appeared to surprise the kid. Not to mention how sensitive the entire body was; Ivan almost felt himself feel a sense of pride when he thought he might be the first.

As much as he wanted to continue on, he was of the opinion that this activity was already kind of overwhelming. They could try more things another time if Matthew was willing. Or not, and that was okay, too (he tells himself that, but even as he does, his fingers dip between cheeks and rub softly). Feeling perverted, and also very hard, he's craving some attention, too, and he catches mouth again. Knowing that Matthew will be struggling to concentrate at too many things at once, he keeps the kiss slow, just wanting some stimulation, too.

Then there's the nervousness that comes with so much advancement and very little permission. Mouths together, he mumbles an 'are you okay?' There are urges, and he's still kind of sick, but he pushes them aside- he can enjoy this moment, and indulge later.

None of his anatomy or health class textbooks had told him exactly how good he would be feeling, sure they had stated it vaguely and he had just nodded and turned the page to keep reading, but this was simply astronomical. How on earth was every person /not/ jacking off every minute of the day? There were obviously some physical limitations to this or else there would be nothing but pure physical pleasure all the time.

His knees started shaking as his stomach muscles constricted. His stomach felt rather warmer than usual and his fingertips were tingling against Ivan's chest. His bright eyes fluttered open when Ivan kissed him again, enjoying the simple touch of lips. The rush in his ears almost made him miss the question, as softly as it was spoken, but he managed to hum an affirmative, poking his tongue out shyly to lick at the older boy's bottom lip as he had done earlier. He wasn't quite sure what came next, but there was some distraction with the hand gently rubbing against his backside.

This was quite a stupendous first time, even if it was with a guy and even if it was with the guy that had blackmailed him. Ivan seemed to know what he was doing and, since Matthew had never really noticed him with anyone who seemed like a boyfriend, he wondered if the boy watched porn or had had sex before.

Ivan breaks the contact between their mouths and he leans back somewhat, strand of saliva linking them together. Licking it from Matthew's lips, he does a bad job of ignoring how much his erection aches, and how all these sounds and expressions are making it practically throb with excitement. He's surprised he's not leaking anywhere, given the way his member has been twitching in response to the situation.

What he wants to do is reach around the body and grab both cheeks, lift him off the ground and frot against the door. He wants hands in his hair and ankles linking around his waist. It feels good, but he knows what feels better. A piece of him reiterates he's lucky he's getting this, but that greedy piece reminds him that Matthew would enjoy it all, too. It's justified that way in his mind.

It's only natural for knees to wobble, and he doesn't really want to see what happens when Matthew's finally buckle. If they go much further, the kid's gonna start doubling over and that's just the wrong way for this to go. Stilling his hand, he simply rubs his thumb in circles over the slit, smearing fluids. Husky, but trying to maintain some semblance of control, he clears his throat.

"We should move to my bed so you can lie down."

Matthew followed after Ivan's lips as he moved away, pouting slightly. He hadn't wanted him to stop kissing him. He tasted good and even though he was inexperienced, it still felt incredible. He shivered as the older boy licked his lips clean, the sensitive skin tingling pleasantly.

He could feel that Ivan was holding back, even more than before, even though he kept his hands gentle and firm, and his heart did a little tumble in his chest. The fact that he was incapacitated made him feel horrible in regards to the erection he had felt pressed against his thigh earlier. He wouldn't be able to do much in helping Ivan get off, especially since this was his first time, he just didn't know anything about this. Ivan would have to tell him all he wanted him to do.

Matthew whined softly, wishing the other would continue. The deep voice that replaced Ivan's usual one sent a shiver through his spine. Damn that sounded incredible. The bed? His side was aching, even if he hadn't noticed it before now. The boy nodded jerkily, trusting Ivan to take care of him. "O-okay." His voice was more whispery than usual, and he cleared his throat softly.

When acknowledgement was given, Ivan smiles and in the same movement that he removes his hands from pants, he also tugs them up. Reaching behind the kid, he turns the door handle and eases it open, slapping the light off. There are a handful of steps involved in the movement, all of which are slow but calculated. As they relocate, Ivan is sucking on earlobe, nipping neck. The process requires walking Matthew backwards, one hand smoothing over back so there's no chance of him falling; that would be a disaster.

The journey ends when Matt's calves tap the bed and he eases the blond so he's sitting on the bed, and then helps him lie back. Now would be a great time to crawl over him and explore this or that, to grope over chest and abdomen- but maybe that'll have to wait. He can settle for this. With a knee between Matthew's thighs, he uses the bed for leverage just long enough to give him a couple kisses. More importantly, he uses this opportunity to help remove the lower garments from his classmate's bottom half. There's some adjustment to be had, but then he's tugging fabric back down over hips as he retreats to the space between Matthew's parted legs.

As the pajama pants are removed, he's kissing exposed flesh at inner thigh, is lifting one leg over his shoulder. Ivan needs attention, too, but injuries are limiting his options. One set of fingers nimbly wraps around Matthew's erection again, only, this time he's leaning forward and his tongue is lapping at the head while he strokes. His second hand, however, is dropping down to his own groin and fishing out his own girth. There's relief when cool air touches his hardened rod, and he begins working the length quickly.

Matthew almost wished he had told him to just fuck it and stay here, but he vaguely realized that he needed to sit down at least. He eeped a little when the door opened behind him, blinking as the light disappeared. Ivan led him backwards, distracting him with a talented mouth on his neck and earlobe. He almost stumbled, but Ivan's hand kept him steady.

The little blond made another sound as he hit the bed, blushing as Ivan helped him lie down. The bed was soft underneath his back, bouncing slightly as he was set down. Slim hands burrowed in the blanket as he imagined Ivan crawling over him and kissing him again. The image made him shiver and he looked up at the older boy as he did just that, holding his thighs open with a knee. Without really knowing that he should, he lifted his hips to help Ivan tug his pants off, eager for the unknown pleasure he was sure to encounter.

He watched Ivan move down his body to the split of his legs, removing the last of his lower garments and kissing his thigh. His thigh twitched reflexively, the boy propping himself up to watch what he would do. As Ivan wrapped his hand around him again he felt relief, moaning softly, but he felt a wave of panic as he lowered his head and licked his head. "W-wait! D-don't do that!" He squeaked, quickly pushing the other's head away.

The sudden push almost made him laugh, but what it did make him do was stop. Blush apparent on his cheeks again, he still his hand also and raises a brow, curious about whatever this was. It was dark, so it's not like Matthew should be afraid of being seen, but more than that, what the hell kind of reaction was that? Wetting his lips, breath heavy, he guesses he'll have to transition smoothly. The idea to just take it into his mouth emerges, because he's sure that once Matthew feels it, he'll stop rejecting it- of course, this is not what he does, because it's more important for his neighbor to realize that /if he doesn't want it, Ivan will stop/,

His palm is still wrapped around the arousal, and he can see the glint of fluids dripping from the tip. Assuming he's just supposed to stroke, he begins that up again and nuzzles his cheek against the leg beside him. God, he's so fucking turned on, this is almost torture. He's aching in a still-good way, but he's hungry for attention, too. He'd quit earlier when he was near completion, so this was just a mess of pained, sweet feelings that clenched in his stomach.

Although he has experience, he's not a professional. He doesn't know how to get desired responses, and he's not thinking clearly anyway- desire for release and pneumonia are not working together very well for him. Lips press to inner thigh again and he covers them with open-mouthed kisses, edges them closer to the cock but doesn't actually touch them. Maybe Matthew will realize that those good feelings could be applied directly to all those bundled nerve endings. Coupling this with languidly pumping his fist, he wonders how long it'll take for Matthew to crave more.

Thankful that Ivan stopped, Matthew blushed deeply, looking down at him. "W-why were you putting your mouth on it?" He asked, startled by the action. "You're not supposed to lick things like that." That was what he /urinated/ out of for Pete's sake! What was he thinking, putting his mouth on it? Had he gone mad or something? Even if it had felt nice...

But even if he did have conflicting thoughts about how Ivan was pleasuring him, he was still glad that he was listening to him and had stopped when he told him to, it made him feel better about doing this. At least if he didn't like something then he could tell Ivan that he didn't want him to do it. Leaning back a little from his previously panicked position, Matthew watched Ivan rub his cheek against his thigh, pushing down a flare of panic again thinking he would lick him again. When he didn't, only kissing up his leg, Matthew relaxed enough to enjoy the ministrations again. Whimpers and soft moans were soon falling from his lips again and his oversized shirt kept falling onto his crotch area. He tugged it away impatiently, wanting to see what Ivan was doing.

He wondered, in the back of his mind in the little part that wasn't hazy with pleasure, if Ivan felt similar to what he was feeling. Did he have these electric sensations and vibrant responses too? Some part of him wanted to find out, to see if he could drive him as mad as he currently was.

The question nearly blew his mind. Blinking, he snorts and raises both eyebrows in surprise. It was shocking that Matthew was saying these things- had he never heard of oral before? Never heard about someone giving or receiving 'head' or a 'blowjob'? Suddenly this was slightly more concerning because he had misunderstood. Matthew wasn't just inexperienced, he was ignorant to the acts, too.

"I put my mouth on it because it feels good." This is the most logical answer, although he had this urge to talk dirty, describe how it's not usually just licking and generally involves sucking and throat muscles. There's a desire to corrupt that he finds himself struggling with, but he lets it ebb away and decides he might just try again.

"You don't think that I'm the first person to discover this, do you? If my hand feels good, wouldn't a warm, wet space, too?" Even Matthew has to recognize that other people must do this, because there's no possible way that they're the only two who have tried it. "It's called 'oral sex', Matthew, and it's very common- before you tell me 'no', why don't you try and see if you like it?"

As if testing the reaction, he leans in and brushes his lips against the length. God, he's going nuts down here- the scent and the heat and those expressions and sounds, he just wants to fucking choke on it and hear more, feel more, taste more.

"If you don't like it, I'll stop right away." To emphasize, he dips his tongue out and drags it from base to head in one long lick.

Why was he laughing at him! You weren't supposed to laugh at such a question! Matthew frowned at him lightly, starting to feel stupid for asking him that as he started explaining. Fuck, he must think he's an utter idiot for not knowing something like that.

Yeah, sure, he'd never had any sexual experience of any kind, but still, he hadn't exactly done a research paper on it either. He wasn't going to know everything about sex, even if it was 'very common'. The boy opened his mouth to retort and any notion of what he was going to say drained out of his head in an instant as Ivan started licking and touching him again. White teeth sank into his bottom lip as he tried to stop from yelping. It would /not/ be good if Ivan's mother found them in such a provocative position after what she said about Ivan liking guys.

Matthew looked down at Ivan, cheeks colored darkly. How could just licking something make his breath stutter in his chest? His cock twitched eagerly, telling him just how much he wanted the other to keep touching and licking him. Oh hell this was getting embarrassing.

After the initial lick, he glanced up to make sure that Matthew was on board, and despite the lack of light in the room- the expression he could make out was a good one. Even if he couldn't see at all, he'd have known by the way the thighs tensed and that gasp. It seems that permission had been granted and he drops his gaze down to the task at hand. Lapping generously, but attempting to be calm about it (in case Matthew wants it to stop), his wrist moves over the trunk.

It was pretty important in their predicament that the environment be relaxed, and that there be little to no pressure. As much as he wanted to rush in, he knew patience would be appreciated now. That said, he lets the tip slip between his lips and let's that register before he sucks softly, mouth automatically watering.

Absently, the second hand drops down to his groin where he begins rubbing it with his palm. The stimulus urges him onward, but he stifles it down. God, if things progress like this, then he can't wait for the time when Matthew won't need extra care. Fuck, he wants to be above him- settles for the bobbing motions and a hand around his own cock. Nng, fuck and he smells so damn good- tastes the saltiness, appreciates the warmth- edges Matthew's thighs apart a little further as the first hand dips down to testicle, cupping and rolling between his fingers.

Though not entirely certain where all of this was leading, Matthew decided to let Ivan lead. He would stop if he didn't like anything and even though he thought it was weird to lick and put your mouth on something like that, Ivan knew more than he did so he would let him have at it.

The touches and licks were intense, but manageable, and he was able to keep his moans and other little sounds of pleasure under control. He was frightened of Ivan's mother and the thought of her bursting in on them while her son was doing something like /this/ to him. Though, the pleasure allowed him to remove the thought from his mind as he focused on the boy between his legs.

Then Ivan's doing something with his head, something is the word of the day, and he's taking more of his member into his mouth, and Matthew's feeling some sort of odd interest in seeing the older boy taking his penis into his mouth and sucking on it like an ice cream. Like watching the weird things on Oddities and being morbidly fascinated with them. The pleasure certainly had his attention, too. He never received any pleasure living with his father, only pain and abuse. But here, here he was cared for, pleasured and treated with respect.

Being his first time, Matthew wasn't going to last very long. He had never experienced the pleasure that bubbled in his stomach and made his breath hitch and stutter. He had never been aroused or felt these odd impulses to thrust as his testicles were toyed with. His arms gave up trying to hold him up, collapsing under him and moving down to thread into Ivan's pale hair to give himself something to grab onto to ground him as everything boiled to a crescendo. His slim back arched into the air, the baggy shirt slipping down his stomach as he pressed his hips up into Ivan's face as he shook, crying out wordlessly, his eyes clenched tightly and testicles drawing up tight. His body spasmed with each wave of pleasure, sending hot streams into his partner's mouth.

The fingers in his hair felt amazing; his whole body was itching for some touches, and that definitely would do. Warmth and pressure, and fucking nng, that simple act of affection made it all worth it. All the slaps upside the head and the shouts of 'body will ever love you'- he could easily write that shit away if he could get more fingers threading through his hair and pulling at him and-

Skin tenses in his palm, and the twitches in his mouth alert him of the pending orgasm. Heat erupts and spills over his tongue and he waits until the fluid is gone- swallowing it down- before he leans away. Licking his lips clean, he sits back on his heels and wipes any excess fluid from his chin.

It's awkward to still have an erection now, so he tucks himself away again and pulls his shirt down over his hips.

That'd been a pretty intense arch from what he'd noticed. He just hopes the little guy didn't get hurt during the process. His breath is still a bit heavy and he attempts to regulate it. Smiling, he trails some fingers along the inside of Matthew's calf, admiring it.

"You okay?"

Matthew didn't get up the courage to open his eyes for a few moment, panting breathlessly on the bed as his side burned. Those last few moment had been hell on his side, but he could bear through it. For right now he was focusing on calming his breathing so he wouldn't start hyperventilating and trying to keep his muscles from twitching at everything.

He was hyperaware of everything, the blanket under him, the breath ghosting over his now softening member, the heat being radiated from the boy still kneeling between his spread legs. That was one of the most intense few minutes of his life, his first sexual act, first-what was it?- blowjob. His calf twitched as Ivan traced his fingertips along it, dainty foot shifting with the motion.

"I-I-" He cleared his throat a bit, a lump having lodged itself in there, before he could speak. "I-I think I'm fine. Hell, better than fine." The boy said in a breathless whisper, letting his fingers fall from Ivan's hair as he leaned back too far for him to reach. "That was prodigious." Matthew stared up at the ceiling, his glass-less eyes making it hard to see any detail in the white plaster, the dark wasn't helping either.

"A-are you-did you?" He didn't quite know what to ask, but he was certain Ivan hadn't felt the same thing he had, not if he was talking that evenly and not gasping like a racehorse

Matthew was reeling still, that was easy to see. His chest was still rising and falling at a heightened pace, but more than that, the boy seemed to be relaxed. Not like he'd known Matt for very long, but he's been around him enough to know the kid usually sits in on himself, rigid and tense. Probably out of an ingrained fear of being hit or ignored, but his whole body is lax, save for when there's (probably) a spike of pain from the ribs.

"Well good." Smiling, looks to the ground and picks up Matthew's underwear, followed by the pajama pants. Rolling his shoulder, the leg slips off and he slips one foot after the other into each before tugging them up. Matthew can do the rest, so Ivan recedes. As he's adjusting his shorts, he glances back to the bed and snorts a laugh out of his nose. It was adorable that the blonde even cared, let alone seemed concerned.

Lowering onto the bed, each knee on the outside of Matthew's thighs, he brushes some hair from the teen's face.

"If I didn't, what're you going to do about it?"

His legs felt like jello as Ivan helped him into his boxers and pajama pants, leaving them most of the way up so Matthew could finish the job himself. Hm, maybe he should stop talking to Ivan all together, he never knew what was going to come out of that man's mouth. Right now he was laughing at him again.

Cheeks turned a darker shade of red that he was sure stood out in the dark room as Ivan climbed on top of him, his fingers soft as he brushed a stray lock of hair from his face. He had trouble meeting his eyes, but he forced himself to anyway. Now wasn't the time to get squeamish with someone who had just given you your first adult rated experience.

"W-well, I-I'm not sure exactly, but sh-shouldn't you at least, you know. I mean, I've read about some things like this a-and they all say that it's difficult to get rid of an erection without stimulation, but I didn't want you to do all that to me and then get nothing in return. I just don't think that would be proper, even if I don't know anything about sex or what you just did or anything like that. But I still felt I should ask, because I didn't want you to be uncomfortable or feel awkward or anything and I know that teenage hormones can be rather persistent and that trying to sleep with an erection is really difficult, at least, that's what I've heard at school, I've never really gone through it myself, but you shouldn't have to if you don't need to, after all, you've been so kind to me lately and-and...and..." He trailed off, gnawing on his lip and glancing at Ivan when he realized that he was rambling anxiously. At some point during his awkward jumble of words, he had started fidgeting with his hands, sometimes making little motions with them to try to cover up his nervousness. Now they were clenched on his chest, doleful blue eyes trying not to look embarrassed as he glanced to and from Ivan.

Ivan is smiling and nodding affectionately, going along with this adorable little rant. It's quite cute, he's enjoying how nervous Matthew is and he's especially appreciating the awkward expressions being used. By now, his pearly whites are fully exposed as he watches the strange shifts and the funny glances.

"And...?" Mostly, he was just trying to be a snot and joke around with the guy. Even if Matthew had knows what he was doing, Ivan wasn't going to ask him to do anything. It was only natural to touch yourself- being touched by a dude was the same as being touched by a woman, but when you touch a person back- their gender is very apparent. He doesn't want to scare Matthew away, and especially not just cause he wants to get off.

"I'm okay." Kissing the kid on the cheek, he nuzzles their cheeks together. The rant was kind of sweet- going on about him being nice and stuff. Does this mean there's more than sexual urges behind this? Maybe some of those 'feelings' he's heard so much about?

"Unless you're offering?" This is a joke, because Matthew probably wouldn't even know what to do if he had actually made the offer. Quietly, he pulls the teen's shirt down over Matt's groin and nods to the pillow.

"Get some rest- I've gotta wake you up in a couple hours."

Fucker's nodding along like he's all that. Matthew pouted at him a little, feeling he was finding amusement in his nervousness. "Oh don't even ask me that! I've already told you 'and'!" The boy grabbed one of the smaller pillows, taking his embarrassment out on the older boy in a flash of one thousand count thread and poly-fil.

He paused when Ivan kissed his cheek, the pure affection catching him off guard. Clutching the little pillow to his chest, he gazed up at Ivan. What was all that about? It was just so purely un-Ivan-like that he couldn't wrap his head around it.

Then Ivan is back and he wants to hit him with the pillow again. He flushed again, covering his face with the pillow and shaking his head quickly. "Uh uh!" The boy said, muffled by the pillow. He was quite sure he wasn't ready to try to reciprocate what Ivan had done to him. The sheer excitement of it all would give him a heart attack. He was covered up modestly and he peered out at Ivan. "Wake me up? Why do you have to wake me up?" He asked curiously, tugging his pants and boxers back into place.

The attack was unexpected, but he took it like a champ. There was a wince and laughter that came with the act, but he quieted down quickly. Didn't want to be too loud, he wasn't sure how he felt about his mom walking in- likely she was too boozed up to be awake for at least another eight hours.

"I'm just kidding-" Pushing off the bed, he flips the covers over Matthew and slips back to his bed. Sure, he's not soft or anything, but over the years he's learned that it really will go down on its own. More than that, he doesn't mind the dull ache. If anything, it's a reminder of whatever the hell just happened. What was that, anyway? Had he just seduced Matthew and he'd regret it later? Fingers crossed that the brat knew what he was getting himself into.

"I just figured you'd be in trouble if you weren't there for your dad to pick on after making breakfast." Shrugging, he slips into his own bed and flips the blanket over. He'll be able to fantasize for a while.

"Am I wrong...?

Matthew found himself smiling at Ivan's laughter, even as he attacked him. When had Ivan turned into-well-Ivan? He used to be the Student Council President. Now he was just...Ivan. But I suppose you get on first name basis after what they've been through.

The blankets were flipped over him and he readjusted some, being careful of his side and thankful Ivan had bound it, and curled up on his side again, watching the older boy as he laid back down to sleep. It was odd, almost as if none of this had happened...and Matthew found himself hoping that it hadn't been a dream.

The reminder that he had to go back to his own house tomorrow morning brought his mood crashing back down and he frowned into the pillow. That's right, he had to go back and be the good little punching bag for his father. He had no where else to go right now. "No...you're not wrong." The blond said softly, tugging the blanket over his shoulder with a quiet sigh.

"Oh shit! Tomorrow's Monday!" Matthew wailed as he suddenly remembered the weekend was almost over. Hell! He'd have to go back to school tomorrow...with a broken rib and only half his homework done...He was already in hot water with the teachers, even if they didn't notice him. Being in pain all day then having to explain why he didn't get his homework done to all of his teachers, except his math teacher, wasn't something he looked forward to

Once in bed, Ivan found it easier to rest when he rolled onto the side which left his back facing Matthew. He'd stare all night, probably, if he had the kid in his sights. Ivan wouldn't go so far as to say he was enamored, but he was definitely /something/. The crush had begun on accident, but then the dream caused it to escalate, and in no time he was thinking of all the wrong things and Matthew was moaning and gripping the front of his shirt. So much had happened in the course of a week that he was almost surprised. It was impressive how much the teen could withstand, especially all at once.

"Mm, yeah, tomorrow is Monday." Ivan has a tendency to sleep on his stomach, but due to his current state, he's not sure that would be probable at this time. If anything it would just be painful. Perhaps it would have been a better idea to take care of it while he could, but now that he had set it aside, he'd deal with it in the morning with the normal wood.

"You know..." His voice is kind of quiet this time as he stares off into a dark bookshelf. He can't see any of the titles written there, but he still needs something to look at.

"You're welcome over here whenever." Ah, but that might make it sound like he's only interested in getting frisky.

"Without condition."

He was starting to panic a little, wondering if he was ever going to be able to finish his homework before tomorrow morning. Highly unlikely, but he would still try, maybe he could skip lunch and hole up in the library, wasn't like he was going to eat anyway. The boy tugged one of the smaller pillows to his chest, burying his nose in it.

Ivan wasn't meant to do anything like what he had, was meant to stay that little asshole across the street that blackmailed him. But of course he had to be unpredictable and end up being nice and caring to him. The older boy felt like he was lodged in his chest and whenever he thought of him he wanted to think of this big mean Russian guy with an accent and tattoos on his knuckles, but instead he thought of Ivan and his chest started to get all funny and he often ended up blushing and dammit all!

Matthew looked at Ivan's back, listening as he offered. It made his chest ache more and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. "Why?" The boy asked, curling up under the blanket. "Why are you being so nice to me? Shouldn't you be kicking me out into the street and taking pictures to post around school?"

Ivan was mostly relaxed, feeling comfortable enough in bed and able to ignore his loins. It was to the point where he was able to feel sleep pressing in on him. Sure, he wasn't physically satisfied, but some other gratification made it easier to cope with. Matthew is a sweet kid, although he's kind of neglected and bitter, but he's got quite a lot to offer and quite a lot of gall and strength to him. Even in mid-conversation it appeared he could start to drift off.

Words disturb his final thoughts before sleep and he makes a soft grunting sound before opening his heavy eyes again. The sickness was really getting to him, he probably overexerted himself. At least the only repercussion was drowsiness, right?

"If my goal had been to hurt or shame you, yeah, that's what I'd do. If I wanted to coerce you into things against your will, I'd use my advantage. Nobody sees or listens to you, so who would you tell on me to? You have upper hand knowledge; my mother is a drunk and that I'm a homo, but nobody who will hear you." Bringing a hand to his eyes, he rubs them and clears his throat as he tries to be more awake for this. It was apparently a really important discussion that was vital- Matthew needed to understand where he was coming from.

"But that's not my goal, is it? I didn't know why I was doing it in the beginning, either. But- has it ever seemed like I wanted to hurt you? Or did it seem like I was trying to force my way into your life? I'm selfishly glad nobody notices you, because then you'll never find anyone better than me." Feeling awkward now, he bites his lower lip and then rolls onto his back. Propped up on his elbows, he's looking towards the bed.

"Think about it for a second- If I could have anybody I wanted, and I could, why would I pick you?" The tone was quizzical and he lets it hang in the air for a moment.

"The answer you're going to ignore is that /you're/ the one I want, obviously, or I'd have gone after someone else. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing to you, but it's definitely a new thing to me."

There wasn't a reply for a bit and Matthew thought he had fallen asleep, but eventually the older boy spoke up and Matthew perked up. What he was saying was true, depressing, but true, and he didn't want to believe it. Ivan never had forced him to stay other than on threat of blackmail, but never by force and he had never tried to force him into anything else, but surely there would be someone who would notice him, especially if he had important information...

When Ivan said he was glad, selfishly so, that no one else noticed him, Matthew felt a bit of conflicting emotions. At first he was a bit annoyed that the other spoke as if he would never be noticed, then his shifted to feeling that the words were rather sweet. Ivan wanted to keep him to himself, and if he wasn't noticed by anyone other than the other student, then he wouldn't have any competition. And he probably wouldn't find anyone that was better to him than Ivan had been in this last week.

The boy looked down at Ivan as he rolled over, watching him intently, curious as to what else he would say. It was true that Ivan could get anyone he wanted at their school, he had no end of it from the girls. That he would pick him over everyone else, who were probably much more qualified to be his, what, boyfriend? Matthew blushed darkly, glancing up at the other as he tucked his face into the pillow in front of him.

If he was the one that Ivan wanted, then he might as well give him a chance. He did seem to like him as well, he thought he was handsome and kind (to him at least) and he did care for him, much more than his own father did. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad being with another boy, not like he had a benchmark with a female to base it against. "Will you come sleep beside me?" He asked tentatively, hugging the pillow tighter for fear that the other would reject him.

It was too difficult to see what was going on over on the bed, especially because the street lights were to Matthew's back. The face was shadowed, and Ivan could only really go off of body language. From what he could tell, it wasn't too bad- At least the kid didn't go rigid and defensive. There had been a fear there, that his admittance might have got him in trouble. Of course, he didn't explain it fully either. The selfishness comes with the knowledge that Ivan is kind of a horrible person, and that Matthew could do way, way better than this if only people saw him. He wasn't pleased that his little blond friend was invisible, he was pleased that the boy would have to settle; just another example of how horrible he is (or perhaps how little he thinks of himself, but that's a whole other issue entirely).

The response he receives, however, is an invitation. Blinking, obviously surprised, he freezes for a moment. Seriously? After what they'd done and what he'd said- Matthew wants Ivan to join him in bed? Clearing his throat, he denotes the way the boy's frame shrinks in somewhat. Was he embarrassed? Afraid Ivan would somehow say no? Without replying, he shrugs the blankets off and pads the couple steps over to the mattress where he slips into the empty space provided.

It was a little different now that he was right next to Matthew. Shifting, he motions for the teen to move his head and when he does, Ivan slips his arm into that spot. Tucking the blankets up over his friend's shoulder, he gets comfortable and relaxes.

"Can you sleep now?

Matthew waited anxiously for Ivan to respond, feeling that he was hinging all of his hope on the fact that Ivan would sat yes. He was in a fragile state right now, more mentally than physically, and he needed an anchor in this world that he could hold onto when everything went his utter surprise, Ivan stood up and headed over to the bed, sliding in beside him. The boy scooted back a little to allow the bigger student some room and looked up at him shyly. Ivan slid his arm under his head and instantly that was better than any pillow he'd ever used. Matthew shuffled a little closer, glancing up at Ivan's visage to make sure it was acceptable, before curling up against his chest, closing his eyes and feeling like when he used to sleep with Alfred and they would both curl up in the same side had settled down to a reasonable ache and he was more content than he had been in a long time. He always was a cuddler, Al had made sure of that. Ivan covered up his shoulder and he smiled softly, resting his head on Ivan's chest. "Yeah, I can sleep now." The boy murmured quietly, tossing the pillow he'd been cuddling over his shoulder.

The room is quiet and eventually Matthew's breath becomes inaudible with sleep. Tired and medicated, he finds himself just enjoying their moment. Fingers brush through golden strands and once or twice when Matthew would flinch, he'd give a subtle nudge- Ivan used to have nightmares, too, it's easy to recognize in others now- and then the soft smile would return.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it's so short (and late), but my Ivan's been really busy lately and he's be exhausted, so cut him some slack, eh? Anywho, there was more to this part, but I cut it off at the most natural end, as usual. Next chapter will be longer, promise. But enjoy this one for now!

* * *

During the night, there were a couple shifts that occurred, but they were all pretty- decent. Ivan could appreciate being partially climbed over, and it was kind of shocking how quick to cuddle this little guy was. At one point, he was half-asleep and then some nuzzling started and he really liked that. When the sun started rising, he found himself looking over the gentle features of the boy beside him and before he knew it, he was petting over cheek and he wanted to kiss again so he just rubs his face into the pillow and sighs.

There's a sound downstairs and just as he considers checking it out, Matthew kind of rolls off. Easing out, he puts the pillow in both arms as they reach for something to hold and grins as he steps out. His mother is awake, and she's in one of her good moods as she smiles up at him from the coffee machine. She's set it up wrong and he fixes it for her. Deciding he should just go ahead and make breakfast, he hopes she stays in a good mood as he mentions he had a friend over. She asks if it's the cute kid he's been tutoring from across the street and he nods. She mentions something about how his father is cute, and Ivan mentally vomits, but physically grimaces.

Checking the time, he knows the alarm should be going off in a bit and he heads back up the stairs. Slipping in, he starts to the closet for his uniform. Pausing, instead, he turns on his heel and then climbs onto the bed again.

"Hey," he begins, follows it up with a kiss on the cheek. "Hey, it's time to get up, I made breakfast-" gives a couple more, but trails them down exposed shoulder.

As Matthew drifted off, contently curled up against Ivan's chest, he smiled softly, loving being able to cuddle again. Normally, when he was in bed by himself, he would curl up on his left side and not move a muscle until he woke up, but give him something to cuddle with and he will climb all over it.

Half the time he would end up on top of Al when they woke up or draped across his chest. The little five year old didn't mind in the least, he liked cuddling just as much as Mattie did. Ivan was just as comfortable as Al and he smelled just as nice too. It was kind of a deep, warm smell that reminded him of a camping trip he'd taken with his school once. He almost got left on the trip, but it had been fun.

As he slept, nightmares tried to rear up and disturb him, but every time one got started he'd feel a gentle touch that would banish them and he smiled in thanks. Waking up half way through he night he was on top on Ivan's chest, their legs tangled together, and he just laid his head back down and went back to sleep. Another time he had his nose buried in the older boy's neck, sighing softly and trying to get in a better position so his scent would wash over him again. Finally he fell asleep and didn't wake up again.

A dip in the mattress stirred his consciousness, a kiss on the cheek had him blinking awake blearily. There were kisses again, not that he was complaining, then they were moving down to his barren shoulder. "Mgh, Ivan? Morning." He mumbled, yawning tiredly. A little smiled stretched his lips, and he looked down at the pale hair.

"Hey there." Matthew greeted the other, enjoying the kisses. "I heard breakfast?"

"Mm, yeah. I made waffles. Mom was up so I just went ahead and made them a little early." He's getting somewhat side-tracked, of course, as he breathes against the other boy's skin, lips to neck. A part of him recognizes he should chill the fuck out, but seriously, it had been a little difficult to deal with the body on top of him, thigh occasionally pressing against his groin. Or the particularly seductive way Matthew had gone about soaking him in, pulling him closer or trying to fucking crawl into his skin or-

Shouldn't be thinking about that stuff when you're trying to convince yourself to back off. Some restraint is exerted and he swings a leg over and retracts himself from the bed. He probably should have just taken care of his problem from last night before Matthew woke up. Hopefully he's not thinking about this shit all day.

"I made some extra so you can drop some off with your dad on the way to school. I'll walk you, if you'd like. As for right now, you should take a shower since you smell like- well anyway, you should take a shower." Clearing his throat, he walks into the closet and pulls out a fresh uniform- if Matthew came over more often, it might be wise to keep one of the kid's here.

"I'll uh, preoccupy myself in the mean time. There's towels and stuff in there, help yourself. Let me know if you need anything else."

Waffles. Waffles were delicious. Waffles had syrup. Syrup was often maple. His maple themed thoughts were side tracked as Ivan's breath tickled the skin of his neck, making him shiver a tiny bit. The puffs of air were pleasurable against his sensitive skin and he wondered if this would go in the direction of last night. But apparently Ivan had found his sense of self control somewhere between the bed and the kitchen, because he backed off and Matthew was able to slowly sit up.

Aw that was so thoughtful of him. "Thank you!" Matthew beamed, glad he didn't have to cook today. A quick glance at the clock told him that he would have plenty of time to take a shower and eat before heading by his house to grab his book bag and uniform and drop the food off for his dad.

He smelt? Was that what Ivan was trying to say? He lifted his arm and sniffed along his forearm before picking up his night shirt and sniffing that. He did have a peculiar smell about him, kind of salty and a bit musky. Did that come from what they did last night? It didn't smell like regular sweat.

The boy shrugged and hopped out of bed, slowly of course, and headed into the bathroom where everything had started last night. After a moment's thought he poked his head back out. "Oh, do you have maple syrup?"

As Matthew smells himself, Ivan just kind of looks away. He'd meant to say /you smell like me/, but he shut up and let it go. Eventually, if things went well, Matthew would realize there are different scents that comes with such activities, and since Ivan was foregoing a shower today, he would probably smell like sex. Nobody would know he didn't actually have intercourse, but it'd smell like it. It wouldn't ruin his reputation, rather, he'd likely be more interesting to other people for a while. His main concern, however, is that Matthew will attract other people now. After sexual experiences, sometimes people get those expressions that just ask for-

Shrugging the thought away, he's tossed his shirt off and is working on his pants when the question arrives. Blinking, he glances up to the doorway where Matthew is looking and he nods. Overly aware of his lack of clothing, he tries to keep cool and then raises a brow, continuing on with dropping his shorts- underwear left behind due to courtesy.

"Of course we do, who eats waffles or pancakes without maple syrup?" The reply had humor in it- mostly because it was such a strange thing to care about. Dipping both thumbs beneath the elastic band of his briefs, he nods back to the bathroom.

"... I'll be here to answer any questions when you get out, too."

Matthew beamed again at the answer, dipping back into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. Thankfully they had the maple syrup. It was the only kind of syrup he'd eat and his absolutely favorite kind of food, even if it technically wasn't a food. Shut up, he's Canadian.

The boy quickly shed his clothes and bandages, stifling a sound as he pulled Ivan's shirt off. He paused to sniff it, finding that it smelled differently than what was on his forearm and what he normally smelled like. It smelled nice and Matthew smiled, standing there breathing it in for a few moments. Was this what Ivan meant he smelled like? he wouldn't complain if he did. Soon he had the water running and he stepped under the hot spray with a content sigh, closing his eyes and letting it soothe the pain in his side. Yesterday before he came over to Ivan's, he had been planning to skip today, even if he had near perfect attendance otherwise. He had skipped the last time his ribs had been broken to give himself time to get used to the pain and find something better to bandage himself up with.

The hot water number his skin a little, especially around his side and when he climbed out he felt much better, his muscles more relaxed and smelling fresh and like Ivan's shampoo. The boy wrapped a fluffy towel around his tiny waist and wiped off the mirror, inspecting himself in the mirror. His cheek was still bruised and he realized that he couldn't go to school without covering it up, well he probably could, but Ivan's mother would notice it in any case and he'd had enough questions.

He scuttled to the door, steam rolling out of the crack that he opened. "Ivan." He said, looking out and not seeing the boy at first, mainly because he didn't have his glasses.

As Matthew returned to the bathroom, Ivan continued undressing. He wasn't too concerned about being smelly- he'd taken a shower yesterday afternoon, so this wasn't a problem in the slightest. Once changed into his uniform, he sat at his desk and proceeded to finish his homework and other such odds and ends. It hadn't taken very long, but he'd cleaned his room and re-made the bed, put away the blankets on the floor, and by the time his name was being spoken, he was sitting on his mattress reading a book.

Glancing up, he removes his reading glasses and slips from the bed.

"Yeah?" Raising a brow, he wonders what the kid could want. Oh, maybe his clothes? Turning, he picks them up off one of the chairs- being aired out- and brings them over, handing them out.

"These?"

Then after a pause, he clears his throat and shrugs.

"Hey, I know I'm not in any position to tell you what to do, but uh, do you think that it might be a bad idea to be moving around and sitting so much directly after you uh, 'got injured'? It's your life and everything, but isn't that a little much? I can go back and forge things on the attendance slip if you're worried about an absence?"

Matthew's eyes, half blind, swiveled towards the bed when Ivan spoke, not having realized he was there. He waited as he came over, not wanting the other's mother to hear him. "Um, no, not quite that, but thank you." He said, opening the door a bit more and taking his clothes.

"Do you think that you could borrow some of your mother's foundation?" The blond asked, feeling embarrassed that he had to even ask such a question. "I don't want her to see these, ya know." He gestured at his face semi-vaguely. "And I would like to stay home, but that would include staying with my father until he leaves for work later today. And trying to explain why I'm home early when he gets there this afternoon. He doesn't take kindly to skipping."

"And I don't want to skip, even if I am injured. I like what I learn at school. It's so interesting and everything's always new in my advanced classes. I can take the pain." Matthew smiled softly, darkening a little and trying to ignore how sentimental he felt towards learning.

"I don't know why you somehow think I would ever suggest you skip at your own house. The point of skipping is to do it where your parent can't see you, and I would have easily volunteered my own bedroom. I'm just expressing my concern." Ivan doesn't really mind what Matthew chooses, as long as the kid has all the available information. Smiling, he nods though and motions to the door. It's too bad Matthew has to ask such a thing in the first place, it's just as unfortunate that he has to feel bad asking for the stuff.

"But yeah, I can get you some foundation." The trek downstairs is short, and he glances to his mother who is vegetating in front of the television. Entering her room, he walks to her vanity and stares at all the different pads and bottles and brushes. What the fuck is all this shit anyway? Picking up something or other that looks like skin tone in a bottle, he notices a pad that looks like skin tone, too. Taking it and a brush and then just wandering back out, he returns to his room and clears his throat.

"I hope this stuff works, I don't know anything about make-up."

Matthew nodded, realizing he was still thinking in the mindset that he always had to go back to his house and that he couldn't go anywhere else because he had lived like that for so long. He had a question, but it could wait until Ivan got back with the foundation.

When the older boy returned with the bottle he was pleased to find that he had brought the pad along and repressed a giggle at the brush. He would only need the brush if he was using powdered foundation, but he hated that stuff. It was so annoying to put on and it brushed off so easily. "That should be lovely, thank you." He said, taking the make-up and setting it down on the counter. "Um, do you think your mother would mind me staying here for the entire day today? I mean, doesn't she look down on skipping or something of the sort?"

"Oh, and could I borrow your hairbrush?" He had a few knots in his hair from not brushing it for two days straight. Long hair could be a curse if you didn't have a hairbrush.

Matthew seemed entertained by something he'd done and that made him a little bothered. He didn't like being looked down on, and it was even worse if someone younger and shorter than him was amused by his lack of knowledge in the make-up department. There was a frown there, but he wasn't too upset. In his mind he justifies it- this isn't something men are supposed to know, so he brushes it off.

"My mom? Oh, uh- No, she wouldn't mind. She doesn't really, uh, have the capacity? She was never really the motherly type, but then, she usually gets picked up by who knows who around ten, so she wouldn't be here the whole time." Ivan wants to suggest that he could stay, too, but knows better. God, if he had Matthew alone to himself for a day, he would just-

Clearing his throat, he nods.

"Yeah, like I said- help yourself." It's amazing how Matthew feels the need to ask for every little thing. Ivan had suggested living together, had expressed his personal interest in the boy, and still, Matt is asking permission for- Oh well. It'll take time for him to get comfortable and adjust, so Ivan just reminds himself to be patient.

"If you don't want to see her I can just bring your food up?"

He didn't know why he had thought that she might, perhaps he was holding out for that last little shred of motherness that would have redeemed her. She was nice and all, to him at least, but there was nothing really good about her in his eyes.

"Well, I suppose so, I can always work on my homework while you're gone. It would be nice to just take the day off and relax." Matthew admitted, gripping his towel and gaining a thoughtful expression. Of course, to most students, relaxing didn't involve homework, but when was he ever normal?

"Would you please? That was I wouldn't have to put on any foundation, at least for a while. Are you going to eat with me, too?" The boy asked, looking hopeful. "Are you done getting ready?"

After breakfast they would have to go over to his house before Ivan left for school and stage it like he had made waffles and gone to school. they would also have to get more clothes for him for today and his book bag so he could do his homework.

"You don't have to, it was just a suggestion. No pressure." These words were spoken, but his eyes dropped down to towel and all the skin he could see and /almost/ see. Was he being teased right now? Was Matthew intentionally standing there wet and naked? Well, not naked, but pretty much. Unconsciously, he wets his lips and lets his gaze lower to take in the boy's outline- there are some curves, despite how underweight Matthew probably is. He just wants to brush a flap to the side and continue on from last night, but then he's shaking his head and clearing his throat (for the billionth time).

"I've got nothing else to do, so you go ahead and get dressed and I'll make two plates." Smiling, intentionally answering both questions in one sentence, he heads back downstairs. In the kitchen, he notices his mom is in the same spot, eyes glued to the screen. Making up both dishes, he gives her one last glance before he returns. Using the elbow to open the door, he shifts it wider with his foot and then hooks it with his toes to shut it. Setting both plates down on the table, he sets down a little carton of milk from his pocket and slips into a chair.

"I'll leave you something for lunch, though, if you're staying."

"Oh, I like the idea. I've been having a rough time lately, so I think I deserve some time off from school." Matthew said, watching Ivan get distracted. Did he do something weird? Was there a spider on his towel? What was he looki-oh he was probably being a normal teenager, seeing as the person he liked was standing in his bathroom soaking wet and holding up his towel. Well that explained that little lick he gave his lips.

He apparently came back to himself and steered his attention back to Matthew...at least his face. He excused himself to go make their plates and Matthew returned to the bathroom to finish getting dressed. The blond pulled on his boxers, making a face at them, and then his clothes from yesterday. He didn't like wearing dirty clothes, but at least he hadn't done much in them. Looking at himself in the, he frowned a little and glanced down at Ivan's shirt. It had been really comfortable and it smelled good. Maybe he'd break his dirty clothes rule later.

By the time Ivan was coming back upstairs, Matthew had the door open and was brushing his semi-dry hair with the hairbrush. He absently noticed some strands coming loose, but he had been yanking a bit hard to get the knots out. The scent of waffles drifted to the bathroom and he started drooling just a bit. Deciding he was done, he set the brush down and hurried out of the bathroom eagerly. The boy sat down across from Ivan, wondering where he had gotten the carton of milk.

"Oh." He said with a frown, glancing up at Ivan. "I don't have enough maple syrup on my waffles."

Ivan was just beginning to cut into his waffle when Matthew mentioned the non-abundance of syrup. Blinking, he looked down to his own plate. Rising, he brings his plate over and turns out his waffle-holes onto Matthew's food. Making sure there was no mess made, he snorts- seems the little guy has a sweet tooth- and then returned to his seat.

"That good enough?" Humored, he starts cutting out sections and takes a bite. He doesn't mind going back downstairs, but if he doesn't have to there's no point in doing so. Reaching, he picks up the newspaper from this morning (his mom brought it in earlier) and slips on the reading glasses that had been set in his breast pocket. He'd picked up the habit from his father when he was younger, and now he's pretty much up to date on current events. Sometimes it's convenient to be 'in the know' on this kind of stuff.

"Hey," raising a brow, he realizes he's never really asked.

"What are your plans for after high school, anyway?"

Matthew smiled when Ivan sacrificed his syrup for him. How sweet of him. He thanked him and nodded as he sat back down, happy with the amount. The boy dug in heartily, finding his appetite returned. The waffles were delicious and his stomach rumbled hungrily as he began eating.

He glanced up to compliment Ivan on his cooking only to find him wearing glasses all of a sudden. Startled, he stopped eating, bemused by the sudden appearance of the glasses. They fit him in an oddly attractive way. The newspaper fit into the scene as well, complimenting Ivan's mature mannerisms. Matthew suddenly felt like a little kid next to a full grown man.

"Oh! Um..." He had caught him off guard. Blushing lightly, he glanced away, focusing his fuzzy vision elsewhere. His glasses were still on the nightstand. "Well...I kinda wanted to go to an art school...but I won't have the money, and my dad wants me to go into law school like him and either be a lawyer or a doctor. He doesn't like my drawings."

Ivan listens curiously. Ah, right, Matthew liked to draw, hadn't he? He'd seen an example of it just recently, too, and it had been pretty impressive. Trying to think on it, he wonders if it was a burden he could take one when Matthew graduates a year later. He's going to be heading off to medical school soon- like Matt's father had hoped for his son- which is expensive, but being waived for him due to merit. It's plausible, although not something he would bring up this early in knowing each other.

Nodding, he makes a sound in his throat of acknowledgment.

"I'm generally of the opinion that you should do what you want.  
Haha, you might know that by now." What had he done? Blackmailed a kid? All other such things; accosted a boy when he was weak. Maybe he doesn't even really have to say that. He's not really someone who has any influence on Matthew's future at this point; maybe some day.

"You've still got time to make decisions." Glancing back to the paper, he makes another sound.

"Then what would you do? If you had gone to art school? You want to be a...?"

Matthew was glad that Ivan didn't share the same ideals his father did. He had been worried that he might try to push him towards the more well-paying jobs as well, but thankfully, he had encouraged him instead. He nibbled on his waffled a bit while Ivan glanced back at his paper, tilting his head at the questions.

"I've always been enamored with drawings, and comics, so I want to publish illustrated novels, like Persepolis, depicting the fight through hardships." The boy picked at his waffles a little, feeling a tiny bit wary to tell Ivan this because he thought, what if he didn't like it? He couldn't be with someone who didn't care for his dreams.

"Other than that I want to illustrate for books or maybe even go into the movie or game business and design graphics and animatics." He loved gaming, even though he barely got to play, and movies were his secret drug. Since he was a small kid he had wanted to work with books and movies and games.

Soaking in the words, he considers it all. It's not that Matthew needs his permission, but he does like the idea of approving of a potential mate's goals. Not that it mattered, really, because a profession and a dream don't change a person- and he already liked Matthew. Maybe he was just curious? Maybe he was just wondering about whether or not the kid would even tell him? It was nice to be taken seriously, Matthew hadn't really thought he was being for real until last night, and shrugged off any of his interest.

"Hm, sounds like you've got quite the plan going. Sounds like a lot of fun. Good luck." He doesn't want anything to get too heavy this soon, so he just kind of keeps it in the back of his mind and stores it away. Knowing stuff feels good- especially since, really, how many people know anything about Matthew? A voice reminds him he's being selfish and he swallows.

"At any rate-" There's a crashing sound downstairs and he blinks. Mumbling a 'hold on', he walks to his door and peeks out. Exiting, he makes it to the stairs where he sees his mother and the coffee pot broken on the ground. She cries and apologizes and she tells him she doesn't want to be alone today, that he has to stay with her. He tells her she should go to bed, and she says only if he'll stay and he just takes in a slow breath and agrees- but only if she goes back to bed. With that, he helps her with her medicine and she stumbles into her room and crawls under the sheets.

It only takes a minute or so to clean and then he's back upstairs.

"You almost done? We should get you some clothes and drop off the food?"

The fact that Ivan wasn't pushing anything made Matthew relax. He didn't seem worried about his plans and even seemed to approve of them. That thought made him very happy and he grinned at his plate.

The crash made him jump in his seat and he turned wide eyes to Ivan, having to remind himself that it wasn't his father coming up the stairs drunk. He almost stood up and called out to Ivan, restraining himself just in time. It wouldn't do to have him think he was a scared little boy who couldn't do anything on his own. His appetite vanished and he toyed with his half eaten waffles anxiously until the older returned to a sigh of relief. "What happened? What was that noise?" He asked immediately.

"Oh, well I suppose so." Hm, he said that a lot. The boy stood up and brushed off his lap primly, heading over and grabbing his glasses and sliding them onto his nose. "Do you want me to walk you to school?" Matthew asked, kinda wanting to, even if he shouldn't be walking around much with his rib. But he liked spending time with pretty much the only person who noticed him and treated him kindly. Such a turn about since last week.

"Hmm? Mom broke something on accident. It's nothing, she's just not feeling well. I don't think she took her medicine last night is all." Although he asked, he looks to the plate and frowns. Well no he's not done eating, but they'll be coming right back anyway, so Matthew still has time to keep at it. This kid has really gotta start eating, it's stressful to worry when organ failure might set in; it really happens.

"School- right. Um, no. I'm going to be home today. She's being weird and wants me to stay, but we still have to drop by your place." Ah, but now Matthew looks a little weird. Was he frightened earlier? Probably. There's a lot of psychological damage going on here, he should be a little more sensitive.

"Hey," motioning, closing the door with his butt, he holds out his arms.

"Come here for a second, okay? Just a sec, and then we'll go."

"She takes medicine? And she drinks all the time? That isn't good at all." Matthew said, shaking his head. He wondered how often his mother broke things if he was this unconcerned about it. "So you're skipping today, too? That's not good." He heard the door close and focused on Ivan, curious as to what he was doing.

The open arms surprised him and he hesitated for just a moment before striding across the room and letting Ivan envelope him in his arms. He had really been frightened when he heard the crash. His father often broke things when he was drunk or angry and the sounds had been the harbingers of pain and suffering for him. But the fright all dissipated the moment he stepped into the circle of Ivan's arms. The boy wrapped his arms around the older one's bigger waist, resting his head on his chest, feeling suddenly cuddly again. "You're such an oddball."

One day he's blackmailing him and threatening to have him expelled just so he could learn about him and the next he's comforting him as if he had never said a stoic thing to him.

His mother's medicine was not something Ivan liked to talk about. She took some sort of anti-depressant and then she disappeared for days on end. He's learned about how to deal with it and her, so he just ignores it and goes on with his life.

"Mm, sometimes I stay home, but the principle knows about my circumstance so I just have to call him and he excuses it." Smiling now that he has an armful of Matthew, he hugs and holds lightly. He doesn't want to hurt the kid, so he tries to be gentle. Snorting, he mumbles a 'no I'm not' into the boy's hair and just takes a moment to let it soak in; Ivan can be stable. As much as he knows about the medical field and the mental aspect of it, he knows that people trust doctor's because they're an authority. There's a belief that they can do no wrong, that they know what they're doing- he wonders if he can apply that to their relationship. Matthew kind of needs someone he can rely on.

A brief moment has passed, and he eases them apart.

"Let's get it over with, yeah? Sooner the better."

Matthew could understand that sort of arrangement, but what he understood better was that he got to stay with Ivan all day. Quite amazing how getting sick can change your image in the eyes of others isn't it? Before Ivan had gotten sick, Matthew had felt that he was a rather handsome but annoying guy. Now he could see the nicer, more tender side and he decided that he liked this one much better.

"And yes you are." He insisted, smiling amusedly. Too bad he didn't like The Rock's TV work or else he'd start calling Ivan that. And he was his rock, he as the most stable thing he'd interacted with in the last three months, even if he wasn't all that stable himself. Then again, Ivan wouldn't be Ivan is he didn't have /some/ eccentricities. With a sigh, Matthew pulled away, not wanting to let go because he's a cuddly fucker and likes human touch. But he had to feed his father and get his homework so he can complete it before tomorrow. "Alright, let's get it over with quickly. I need fresh clothes."

Snorting a laugh through his nose, he removes himself from Matthew and sidesteps. Picking a jacket out of his closet (since man, he can not afford to get any more sick), Ivan begins slipping it on and zips the front. It's a plain white hoodie, but what matters is not how it looks, but that he's warm. Gesturing to the other jackets, he motions that 'okay' for Matthew to take something, too, if he'd like.

With that, he slips out of the room and down the stairs. Slipping some waffles onto a disposable plate with a paper towel on top (so they don't get soggy, otherwise he'd have used tupperware), he assumes Matthew's house has syrup (especially considering how much of a fiend the kid is for it). Meeting the kid back at the door, he slips his shoes on and does a second glance behind to made sure his mom is still in her room.

The walk was particularly short- they do live across the street from one another after all. At this point, though, walking up the drive-way, he makes a face when he sees the dad's car and then looks to Matthew.

"Do you want me to come in with you? Or wait out here?"

It was a bit difficult to step away from Ivan, but he allowed it reluctantly. He followed Ivan to his closet, pulling out the smallest one he could find, because he didn't like being cold. It was a dusty red pullover, and it hung off him, but he was warm and it smelled like Ivan so he could discretely bury his nose in it.

Trotting down the stairs after the older boy, he took the waffles and held them as Ivan out on his shoes. He just kinda slipped his feet into his, not particularly caring for making them comfortable right now. Outside it was windy and the crisp wind snapped against them as they walked across the street.

"Would you come with me?" He didn't want to be alone right now, not at his house. The thought that his father might walk in on him was terrifying. So he tugged the older boy behind him, opening the door and slipping into the kitchen. He left the food on the counter and instantly headed up to his room with Ivan in his wake. "Here's my room."

It was kinda the one he had kept from Ivan before.

"Yeah, of co-" But then he was being pulled to follow and he just kind of laughed and trailed along. It was kind of nice how comfortable Matthew had become with him already considering how things had been progressing lately. It was probably a blessing that he had fallen ill, because there's no way he would have done a lot of that sentimental stuff if he were in the right head space. Ivan is very much about appearances, and being seen as weak was something he dreaded. That is, until Matthew. It seems like every time he's a little more honest, the kid just eats it right up. Maybe that's how things are supposed to be?

In the bedroom, he just glances around and then looks his friend over. He's seen this place from his window many times. It's so different than it looks from his own bedroom. Walking around, he looks at photographs and of drawings on the wall and then he picks up Matthew's pillow and brings it to his face. Breathing in, he lets out a soft hum and smiles before dropping it back down.

"Okay, well- grab your backpack." Pulling open the kid's dresser, he looked for the uniform and then realized that he had no idea where it would actually be so he laughs and steps back.

"Yeah and uh, I'll let you do that." Sitting down on the boy's mattress, he folds both hands together and slips them between his knees. "And pick up an extra pair of something casual, okay? You can just leave it at my place."

Watching Ivan inspect him room was curiously relaxing. He wasn't worried that he wouldn't like it for once, not anxious that he would find something wrong with it. It felt nice to just be able to not fuss over others' judgments. The younger boy watched as the other smelled his pillow, finding the action somehow adoring.

Seeing the other searching through his dresser in search of his uniform was funny. "Do we need my uniform today?" He asked, opening his closet and pulling out one of his uniforms and laying it on the bed before going back to look through his other clothes for something casual. In the dark of the closet, he buried his nose in Ivan's jacket, breathing in his scent with a smile.

A red shirt with a white maple leaf on the front was laid on the bed next to his uniform. It was a spin on the Canadian flag and he loved it a lot, it was also very comfortable. Next he pulled out some dark washed jeans that were baggy on him and threw them on top of his shirt.

"What do you think?" He asked, tugging his book bag over to the bed. His homework got shoved in a messy way that he normally would never condone, but he was tired of being in his room and wanted to go back to Ivan's house.

"Well, you won't be wearing it to school but I thought the plan was to wear it coming home?" Waiting patiently, he bounced a little on the bed and found it lacking. It was just kind of hard. Sure, there was a little padding, but he wonders how Matthew's body feels after sleeping on this piece of shit (this somehow fuels his hatred of Matthew's father). Perhaps a massage was in order- Even as he considers it, he's getting a little excited and then he has to push it away. Maybe just a shoulder rub, since he doesn't trust himself touching anywhere else.

As the clothing was laid out beside him, he admires the uniform and denotes how he would never, ever fit into it. Then he sees the second outfit displayed and actually, it kind of really fits Matthew- this laid back but passive-aggressive pride. Smiling, he raises both eyebrows simultaneously and then drops them just as quickly.

"I think you have the time to change out of what you wore yesterday." Getting up, he walks into the closet and fingers through some other clothes, just checking out the wardrobe. It's mostly casual, t-shirts with cute cartoon designs or jeans with worn out knees. He kind of really likes them? Maybe he's fawning too much; he should really put a lid on it.

((He should XD))  
Oh yeah, he still had to go back home tonight. It would be a dismal ending to his day, but it wasn't a choice. "Yeah, I guess so." He said, folding his uniform up neatly and putting it inside his back pack. "I hope you don't mind me changing in front of you, I don't have an en suit and I don't want to chance meeting my father in the hall."

Hopefully Ivan didn't mind too much, he didn't think he would, but you never know. He might not like people changing in front of him, but he was gonna do it anyway. "Oh, could you redo my bandages? I wasn't able to do them up tight enough when I got out of the shower." The boy tugged his shirt over his head and motioned to his bandaged chest.

"It gets annoying not being able to do them up tight enough by myself." Matthew explained, looking over at Ivan. "Do you have anything you want to do today? Besides my homework, of course." Though a slow day spent on the couch sounded wonderful.

In the closet, Ivan sighs- of course he has a problem with Matthew changing in front of him. The problem is called 'an erection', and he really enjoys avoiding them. He thinks he can just stay there, but then he's being asked to come help with bandages and he curses mentally.

"Yeah, sure. Sorry, if I'd remembered earlier I would have helped then." Turning, he finds his eyes drawn to milky skin and then he's taking in a quick breath and clearing his throat. Un-clipping it, he has to reach around the body a couple times to remove it and God he shouldn't have gotten this close. He can feel his skin warming at the proximity, but he swallows it down. Closing his eyes, he naturally finds himself leaning in a little closer as he adjusts the gauze, starts wrapping again. It's not like he can't control himself, or like Matthew is some Adonis or something, just that he... maybe Ivan just likes him a little more than he thought he did.

When he finishes, he steps back and fastens the cloth shut and then takes a couple more steps back. Yeah, distance might be a good thing, and they should probably get the fuck out of here before anything happens. The last thing Ivan wants to see is that asshole's shit-eating-grin. It would turn his stomach.

"Hurry up, alright?" Looking away. "We should jet soon."

Matthew held up his arms a bit as Ivan re-wrapped his bandages, wincing just a little at the added pressure to his side. But he knew that it would benefit him in the end. With the other so close it was difficult to focus on the wrapping, instead he watched the play of muscles along Ivan's hands. He liked his hands, they were strong and nimble and nothing like his own.

He was warmer than usual and it was strange to him. A book had told him that the body temperature rises in response to adrenaline, and adrenaline was released when people were sexually excited. Was he that now? His stomach felt tight, but it didn't quite feel the same as last night. Finally his bandages were done and the older student stepped away. Matthew felt a little calmer and pulled his fresh shirt over his head, followed by Ivan's pullover. The smell that was attached to it made him smile as it surrounded him. He made sure Ivan was turned and hurried to his dresser before stripping his pants and boxers and pulling on a clean pair. His pants soon followed and he turned back around.

"Alright, let me put these away and we can go." Matthew said, taking his dirty clothes over to the hamper and tossing them in. "Will you grab my back pack?"

While Matthew adjusted himself and changed out of this and into that, Ivan kept his back turned, looking at things on top of the boy's dresser. There were some little figures, a photo or two, but aside from that it seemed like the kid was under appreciated. Ivan purposefully left his room scarce, he didn't want anyone to be able to gain any insight on who he was just by being in his room. Matthew's room screamed neglect, and that was upsetting. It made Ivan want to spoil him. In his mind, he thinks 'when we have a place together, he can decorate it however he wants'- but then, he's getting way ahead of himself.

"Hmm? Oh, sure." Retrieving the bag, he slips it over one shoulder and nods towards the door. The longer they were here, the higher the risk of seeing Matt's dad, and at this point he's not sure he could resist punching the fucker straight in his jaw. There was a possessive need to protect rising inside of him, and he'd noticed it from the moment the kid's parent had been introduced. He'd literally thought about how good it would feel to knock him down a couple notches, but it wasn't his place (neither was blackmailing Matthew, but Ivan wouldn't be the one left behind to pick up the pieces).

"After you."

Matthew smiled and headed out the door, flicking the lights off after him. He took the lead, quietly walking down the steps and peeking into the kitchen. The waffles were untouched on the counter and he gave a mental sigh of relief before continuing on to the living room. This room was clear too. It appeared his father was still asleep or still getting ready. Which worked perfectly for him.

"Alright, let's go-"

"Matthew!" His father called from upstairs, the heavy thud of his shoes heading down the stairs Matthew's heart leapt into his throat and he tugged Ivan out the door and shut it behind him as quietly as he could before taking off at speed for the other side of the street and Ivan's porch. He hadn't thought his father would come down /then/. That had been horrifying.

He had thought he was going to free up and that they would get caught. But they made it to Ivan's porch without incident and he collapsed on the porch step gasping and holding his side, thankful that his father hadn't heard them and come outside.

"S-sorry..." The boy murmured breathless to Ivan.

Ivan was walking at a quiet, although casual, pace as he continued down the steps. Of course, as soon as they heard the words, he was being fucking jerked. Thank God he was on the last step or he would have made a bunch of noise jumping the last couple. Nearly flung out the exit, he's trying not to stumble or anything, and then the door is shut soundlessly and he's again being pulled across the street. Once at his door, he allows Matthew time to catch his breath, but opens the door also, to ease him inside.

"Haha, it's fine- It's better that we didn't see him at all." Once he had the boy in the house, he shuts and locks them in before nodding up the stairs. Glancing to the living room, he denotes that it's quiet and that she appears to still be asleep. Removing his shoes, he finds humor in how easily Matthew got winded, but that was also kind of adorable? They're almost exact opposites, and yet he just thinks it's so freaking cute. Maybe it's just because of the rib.

Once up the steps, he finds relief when they're able to relax in his room again. As quickly as he can, he closes his curtains. There's no way he's gonna let them get in trouble now if the father sees them on accident.

"Anyway, I think I might take a nap- if you want to work on your homework or something, help yourself. When you're hungry just let me know, alright?"

Matthew smiled thankfully at Ivan as he opened the door for him and let him in. As the other boy locked the door, he took his shoes off, his chest still expanding rapidly from the run. He had never really been athletic and his father had never allowed him to join any track teams or such and aside from that dismal hockey tryout, he'd never had any other interest in sports. Ivan didn't seem phase by the run, but he never did seem fazed by much.

Ivan's mother didn't seem to be up, which made Matthew happy. They wouldn't have to worry as much about her overhearing them. They headed up to the room, Ivan closing the curtains as soon as they got up there. Somehow it made the room feel less sterile and it made the little blond smile. "Aw, you're going to take a nap? But we just got up? Though, I guess I kinda did keep you up last night...Sorry."

He felt a little bad for having made Ivan miss his sleep, it was important that he got enough and he was impeding that. "And I probably won't be hungry for a while." That was for certain, that half stack of waffles had filled him up thoroughly, and he wasn't used to having so much food in his stomach.

As he unzipped the hoodie, Ivan raised a brow. It's funny how Matthew considers accosting him for intimacy as 'keeping him up'. Snorting, he shakes his head and proceeds to remove his uniform top. If he's not going to school, he doesn't need it on. There's a white tank top beneath it, but he likes to be comfortable at home so he grabs some clothes to change into.

"Hey, don't. I was more than happy to stay up with you for whatever reason. I'm just a little tired, and since I'm going to be here might as well rest, right?" Stepping into the bathroom, he exchanges his school outfit for an 'at home' outfit. It consists of a black t-shirt and jeans. His socks are white- Ivan does not have a 'fashion sense' and he dresses very plain when he doesn't have to be presentable to anybody. Slumping onto the bed, he rolls onto his back and flips a forearm over his eyes and exhales. This was pleasant.

"Are you cold?" Rolling his head to the side, a grin slips over his features. "Do you need to keep that on?"

Well, his logic did make sense, but Matthew just felt like he wanted to spend time with the other today. But he didn't want to bug him, so he would let him sleep while he did his homework. He waited while the other got dressed, sitting down at his table and pulling out his homework.

He laughed softly when Ivan flopped onto the bed, amused by the drama of the action. "Wear what? Oh, this?" Matthew asked, picking at the big red pullover he was still wearing. "Well, no, I'm not cold, but..." He blushed a little, wondering if the other would find it odd. "Well, it kinda smells good." That was totally embarrassing to admit, but he managed it.

Would Ivan find it weird? It smelled like his shirt, which he guessed smelled like Ivan. And that made him want to keep both garments. "Oh! You never called the school to tell them you weren't coming in."

Watching Matthew's expression contort, and then his cheeks heat, Ivan realized at that exact moment that his feelings were reciprocated. As much as he had assumed they were unrequited, he was beginning to understand that, actually, yeah, Matthew probably did like him but just had no idea what he was doing. Fuck that was reassuring. The following confession had his eyes widening- did he really just admit that?

"You... Can wear my clothes whenever you want." It took a moment to recognize how strange that offer probably seemed, but he just felt like this was absolutely the ideal thing to say right now. Of course, Ivan feels he has to follow it up with something else-

"Or you could just smell me." Shrugging, he takes the reminder and rolls onto his stomach. Reaching for the phone, he starts dialing in a number. It rings a couple times and then there's a male voice on the other end.

"Hey, yeah, it's Ivan- Hmm? Yes, I'm alright. My mother- Yes. I won't be able to attend today." There's a pause and he makes some hums of agreement and then finishes the call with 'thank you for understanding, have a good day'. Dropping the phone, he slouches against the bed.

"You also- don't have to do your homework. Just sayin'.

He could wear his clothes? That was sweet, Ivan was being so kind to him. Though he might just take him up on that offer, his shirt was damn comfortable. The boy colored darkly, shocked by his second offer. "S-smell you?!" He hissed, face red. What a thing to say!

Though...Ivan did smell really good...Matthew blushed darkly, fidgeting in his seat the entire phone call. "W-what do you mean? I don't have to do my homework? Of course I do." That was just silly, he had to bring his grades up, and just the thought of not completing his homework made him balk. Up until now, his schoolwork had been everything to him, it was the only thing that he had under his control. And he actually enjoyed it, which made it that much better, even though it was sometimes difficult.

"Such a thing to say." Matthew murmured quietly, playing with his fingers in his lap. Not doing his homework, really?

"It's not that strange to offer. You're smelling me right now. I just meant to cut out the middle man." Eyes closed, cheek resting against bedding, he snuggled in to fall asleep. It wasn't that hard, surprisingly, because he'd spent so long just watching Matthew when he should have been resting. Of course, he doesn't regret it. If he could do it again, he'd probably do it exactly the same- but maybe with some more touches mixed in there. And maybe he'd be a little reckless when Matthew was crawling over him and-

"I didn't mean you don't have to do your homework. I just meant that you don't have to do it now. There's eight hours left, you can't blame a guy for trying to get you in bed with him." As he finished the sentence, he realized how it sounded and his cheek heated. Sitting up on an elbow, defensive, he cleared his throat.

"I mean- you know, to lie there, not to like- but if you wanted to then- not that we have to, I'm not even-" Flustered, he just blurts a 'never mind' and then groans maneuvers until he's under the covers. Why was he so stupid just then? Is this what liking people does? It kind of... really blows.

Oh, he hadn't mean to put him off his homework, just to post pone it. That made him relax considerably. He wasn't about to mess up when he was trying so hard to get his grades back up. Matthew slid his books away with a little smile, deciding that relaxing would be best for him right now. he was still injured after all.

He caught the tail end of what Ivan said and turned a deep red. That just sounded so wrong. So why was his heart pumping faster? That was quite the invitation. Though the way Ivan was blushing and becoming so flustered was quite the sight to see. It was rather amusing and oddly adorable for the bigger boy to be stammering like that.

Matthew giggled softly and got up, walking over to the bed and gently tugging the covers from over Ivan's face. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with trying to get a guy in bed with you." He chuckled, eye twinkling at him. "And I would be happy to get in bed with you." Oh what he must be thinking at that~ It was fun to do things like this, especially if Ivan keep reacting like that. The boy scooted Ivan over and slipped into bed beside him, curling up instantly and resting his head on his chest.

Ivan is busy berating himself when the blankets are shifted, and he blinks, shocked. Matthew should be over at the table, like, doing his homework or something which did not include surprising Ivan. The boy starts climbing in, plus those comments, and then he's loaded up with mixed signals. He has no clue what just went down, but he might be being mocked or- or flirted with. Ivan is struggling with these thoughts and then Matthew is cuddling up close and he can feel the kid's breath through his shirt.

"Hey, be careful-" Worrying about the ribs, he makes a sound in his throat and then just surveys the situation. Okay, well, it's comfortable and harmless, so this isn't too bad. Relaxing back against the pillow, he easily sifts fingers into golden strands and strokes through them. The second hand trails up and down the other teen's arm, and he smiles, cozying up.

"Mm, I could get used to this." Eyes closed, he appreciates their little moment together. "We should do it more often."

The look on Ivan's face was comical, but Matthew prided himself in not laughing in his face. That would make him feel bad, he was only aiming for mildly shocked and confused. He closed his eyes as Ivan stroked through his hair, a little startled at the touch, but quickly getting used to it. It was soothing and relaxing and he almost forgot his glasses. The blond took them off quickly and set them on the side table before returning to the cuddle, tossing his arm over Ivan's chest and smiling when he ran his hand over it.

He wondered if Ivan found him too feminine. He was tiny and slight, with barely any muscle and wore make-up. He also had delicate and small hands and feet and long eye lashes. Another thing he was sorely lacking in was body hair. Maybe it was the blond color, or maybe he was part hairless Chihuahua, but he only had a fine covering of pale hair on his arms and legs, and virtually no trail down his navel either.

"We should. I like it." Matthew murmured, enjoying the petting. "Hey Ivan...what does this make us?" He asked softly.

Ivan is thinking about the future in his head, considering where things would go from here, what they'd do tomorrow, what his plans were after graduation. It never occurred to him that they wouldn't be together, in whatever way they were together now. He didn't need anything definite, he just needed Matthew- apparently. Just last week he was planning on how to get the kid into his clutches, and now he's re-organizing his life to suit their needs.

"Oh." It's not like Ivan hadn't made his intentions clear, so really, their status was resting on Matthew. Want to be friends? Okay. Boyfriends? Sure. Lovers? Alright. Nothing? Unacceptable. Perhaps this was a negative way of thinking, but he had developed these feelings and they were so difficult to manage, so he made do with what he has.

More importantly, this left open the fact that Matthew might be hoping for a claim on him, and fuck, that was pretty okay, too.

"Do... you /want/ to be something?"

Matthew opened his eyes as he contemplated the possibilities. There were so many terms for what they had, any one of them could be right. "I'm not entirely sure. But I want us to be something. I've read that it's important to be able to describe your relationship." He said softly. "There was a study on teenage relationships that asked whether or not they had a description of their relationship and of those that didn't, they were more likely to have fights and be hesitant to each other."

He read lots of things. Of course he did. Don't question it.

"From what I read, it's not quite right to call us lovers. That's usually reserved for people who have had sex or do sexual things on a regular basis. I think boyfriends might be closer to us right now. But then again relationships cam have more than one description." Matthew furrowed his brows in thought, looking at the wall. "I think that one might be the best one for right now. We can add or take away more later, if need be."

Ivan wasn't sure how he felt about labeling their relationship, because they didn't really need one right now, did they? Matthew's inexperience leads him to academic fact and probably a bunch of surveys and statistics, but Ivan isn't entirely positive that that's the best way to go. However, if it'll make the little guy feel better, then alright. They just recently realized they had something, and neither of them really asked each other out, but if that's what Matthew wanted, he would absolutely settle for 'boyfriend'. It was kind of a pretty big deal?

"I suppose now is the right time to ask whether or not you want it to be made public. Labels only matter for other people. I know what you mean to me and you know your feelings- titles are for the people who don't know what we are to each other." Although he was hesitant, he wasn't completely opposed to the idea. The only thing was that Ivan would definitely be hit harder with it; two boys dating was kind of frowned upon these days (and in the past too, so really, 'every day').

"I don't know how many people pay attention to your availability, but I have a bunch of people focusing on mine, and I guess what I want to know is what you want me to tell them?"

Go public? That was something Matthew had never thought of. He'd supposed they were going to stay together, meeting up at Ivan's house and going to do whatever couples did. It never occurred to him to tell people at school.

"Um." Matthew was at a loss for words for a moment. He gnawed on his lip lightly as he thought. "I-I'm not really comfortable with anyone at school, mainly because I don't get noticed, but I don't suppose it will be much of a problem if you tell anyone. It would definitely tell people that you're taken."

"I-I just don't want to be around when you tell them." Matthew shrank against Ivan's chest, a bit of fright in his eyes. "I'm terrible with crowds, especially if they're all looking at me and I have to speak."

His stage fright, rather unwarranted, had gotten his scores deducted on presentations, even if no one but the teacher noticed he was there. "Maybe you could tell the kids in your classes? They'll definitely spread it around school."

The physical reaction taking place in Matthew's actions were more than enough to know that the kid probably wasn't as okay with it as he made it seem. What he's come to learn in his short amount of time with the boy is that he's too nice for his own good, and his inexperience leads him to certain answers. Ivan knows that if he tells people, regardless of how invisible Matthew is, people will start to notice; they'll be looking. They'll want to know what kind of person Matthew is, and when they see it's a small /male/ there will be hell and he's not sure he wants to leave someone he cares about in that kind of environment for a year after he graduates.

"Mm, the better question would be- do you mind if I don't tell them? I'm a private man, I don't like my business 'spread'. If you wanted them to know, specifically, then I'd do that, but otherwise I'll just express my unavailability." Shifting, because comforting Matthew in this position was hard, he rolls the teen (and himself) somewhat so that Matt is on his back. Ivan has Matthew's head in the crook of his elbow and he's propped up somewhat, leaning partway over the younger blond with one hand stroking over cheek. He's feeling affectionate (which is not something he knew he felt- kind of new), and it reflects in his features although he's not smiling.

"You don't have to be so afraid of things. Not when you're with me, at least." His eyes settle on the bruise, and he grazes the pads of his fingers over it, then trails them down until they've reached shoulder. From here, he gently grips muscle and proceeds to massage. Ivan doesn't mind learning, and he doesn't mind being the only one who can make the tension disappear. He'll earn it.

"I'll read your mind, and I'll do what makes you comfortable. Deal?"

Whatever Ivan wanted to do was okay with him. He didn't care if he told the kids at school, even if he didn't like the thought of suddenly being the center of attention. Which he would, regardless of how Ivan phrased it to the student body. He was an anomaly, invisible, but to be noticed by one of the smartest and most popular boys at school would surely bring attention to himself.

And he was horrible in front of people he didn't know, especially if he was expected to speak. The only thought he had was pleasing Ivan, so the ultimate choice was up to him, though it was incredibly nice that he was putting Matthew before himself.

Matthew tilted his head in thought as Ivan offered to keep him to himself. It would probably be the most beneficial action for both of them, to just keep their relationship a secret. And he liked the thought of no one else knowing that Ivan was his. The boy looked surprised when he was rolled over, blinking up at the older student. His head was cradled in the bend of Ivan's elbow, which tilted his face more towards the other's. The hand on his cheek was strangely relaxing and he felt the tension start to drain out of him as his cheek was stroked. He liked this side of Ivan, this caring, tender side.

There was a bit of pain as Ivan gently touched his bruised cheek, but the words were more than enough to make it alright. The trail his fingers used reminded Matthew of the path his lips had taken before when they had woken him up and oooh that felt wonderful. The boy quickly relaxed under the other's fingers, not used to having a massage.

"Alright." He agreed with a lazy smile, eyes half-lidded and pleasantly hazy. He could live with that. Especially if he kept getting massages. Massages were niiiice.

Relieved when Matthew didn't brush him off, Ivan smiled and leaned forward. Resting with his face buried in the kid's neck was comfortable, and he could appreciate that he was being smothered in his boyfriend's smell. Ivan had no way of expecting this, of predicting that his weird motivations might turn into a relationship. The last thing he thought would happen included Matthew's hands in his hair while bucking into mouth. No, actually, he never thought someone might actually like him for who he was, and not for who he seemed to be.

As if on cue, he feels skin against his lips and is overly sensitive to it. His breath is huffing against the same flesh and he opens his mouth, lightly nipping the readily available expanse. Too bad that behind his impartial exterior, he was still a hormonal teenager with his mind in the gutter. The gentle bites continue up to jaw line where he nuzzles their cheeks together. He should really stop. Obviously, yes. Plausible? No.

"Mm, if you keep staying over I might have to stock up on maple syrup." Snorting, he backs up slightly and brushes their noses together- it's all he can do to not jump Matthew right now; discipline is something Ivan has firmly implanted in himself, he's confident.

"You didn't mind my pajamas?"

Matthew smiled placidly as Ivan nuzzled into his neck, giggling softly at the breath on his skin. Who would have thought that they would have gotten together after all they've been through? Ivan was one manipulative bastard, that was for sure. But at least he was more comfortable around someone now.

Oh, he loved those little kisses and nips Ivan seemed to always want to give him. It made his head kinda fuzzy while his body seem razor sharp at the same time. He rubbed back against Ivan as he nuzzled their cheeks together. It was sweet and tender and Matthew couldn't get enough of it. He really had been deprived of human kindness for too long.

The boy let out a soft laugh, thoroughly entertained by the words. "I think you'd ought to stock up anyways. It's a very delicious treat. And yes. I will eat it all." He giggled again when Ivan gave him an eskimo kiss. Something he'd read about in a book had made them seem very interesting, and they certainly were. "Why would I mind your pajamas? They're fine to me. Or are you talking about the ones I wore to bed last night?"

Ivan is mostly curious about things because he wants to begin charting acceptable and non-approved of behavior. If Matthew doesn't mind wearing his clothing, then there's no issue with him staying the night 'randomly', because he has something for the boy to wear. If he has a preference, he'll have to go find something in Matthew's size and- Hmm, maybe he should just do that anyway. Seeing that exposed shoulder all night hadn't really helped calm him down in the slightest.

Tracing a finger down from jaw line to chest, Ivan proceeds to outline the design there. It might be something worth avoiding in the future- lying so close and with a lot of time to waste- because he's noticing how problematic it is. Ivan is tentative with everything because honestly, he has no clue how much the ribs have impacted Matthew, nor where they affect. Raising an eyebrow, he smooths a palm along the non-injured side, and begins remembering how small Matthew is. When the kid was in large, baggy clothing, it was easy to forget that he was so thin, but now that his clothes are slightly larger than his form, he can easily make out the form beneath. He could probably see rib cage against the skin if he bothered to look (he kind of doesn't want to see).

"I'm just gonna-" Resting his forehead against Matthew's shoulder, he closes his eyes. The hand at the teen's side tucks beneath the body to rest flat against shoulder blade, "-lay like this for a while."

Ivan recognizes his need for proximity and takes full advantage of Matthew's kind nature. If he could fall asleep with his arms around his now-boyfriend, he would be all means trap him here for that duration.

Matthew was glad that Ivan wanted to learn when to stop with him. It was a relief to know that he wouldn't try to force him into anything if he wasn't ready for it. It made this whole relationship thing much easier to head in to. Maybe his first boyfriend would be good for him, especially if Ivan kept putting him before himself, that was a nice change of pace.

"I liked wearing your shirt, it was really comfortable and I liked that it smelled like you." He managed to say it with a fairly pale face, something he hoped he would be able to control eventually. "But I could do without the pants, they were really big." They'd slid around a lot when he was sleeping last night, which was annoying. But it was nice of his new boyfriend, he really liked that word, to put him up while he was in need.

The boy watched Ivan's hand as it made its way over his body, carefully avoiding his injured side and tenderly caressing the rest of the available space. It felt nice, relaxing and soothing, but he couldn't help but wonder if Ivan liked his body. He knew he was too skinny and rather frail and delicate due to his condition, but he tried to eat as much as he could while he was able to. The thought that maybe the older boy wouldn't like him because he was too skinny scared him, even as his fingers made him feel relaxed.

He tilted his head so that it rested against Ivan's as he nuzzled into his shoulder, shifting a little to allow his hand under his body. Was he going to go to sleep like that? It didn't seem very comfortable, but it was to him. Though, he needed to get this out before the Russian fell asleep. "Ivan...do you think I'm too skinny?" He asked, a bit fearfully, gnawing his lip lightly as he waited for the other's answer.

Listening to the commentary, he smiled and offered up some breathy laughs. He tried to imagine Matthew in them again, and was glad they were drawstring, but there was still a lot of excess fabric. Ivan had been a thin, gangly kid once. He hadn't grown into his body yet, and he was tall and weird looking, but once his father left and his mother was unstable, he'd joined the track team in middle school and took action. Now, he looks thick, but it's all muscle.

The question puts him off guard and he winces. Of course Matthew is worried about that, and of course he wants reassurance. Ivan isn't the type to lie, and the last thing he wants to do is say something just to make Matthew feel better. He wants to give Matthew reprieve, thinks maybe he should just answer with his face buried, but how can the kid know he's being real when he can't see the expression.

Taking in a slow breath, he leans back again, but the distance between them is much smaller now due to Ivan's embrace. Nodding, he agrees.

"Yes, I think you're too skinny." Matthew is underfed, and mistreated, neglected, and underloved, but he's also asking the wrong questions. His brows knit, and he shakes his head a little.

"I'm assuming that what you really want to know is whether or not I'm attracted to you." His job was to be psychic, and he's trying his best. "If that's what you're searching for then- Well, I was in the bathroom last night because I was thinking about you and that body of yours. I just don't think your weight has anything to do with what I want to do with you. I'd be happy if you gained weight because you'd be healthier, but thin or not, it doesn't stop the impact you have on me."

When Ivan pulled away, Matthew worried for a moment that maybe he had said the wrong thing and had upset the other. His face fell a little when Ivan agreed that he was too skinny, but he didn't know why he felt so depressed, he'd already known that he was.

Though he did like what he said about him, that he was attracted to him. His face grew darker when Ivan mentioned the night before. "T-that's a bit of information." He murmured, shifting slightly. Though he couldn't say that he didn't like it. It made him feel rather warm in his chest at the thought that he had driven Ivan into the bathroom just by being there.

"So, you like me and are attracted to me, but you want me to get bigger for my health?" Just so he got it straight. He didn't want to get anything screwed up. "Alright, so how do I do that?" Dieting wasn't his thing, but he wanted to get more healthy, if only for Ivan.

"I mean, I know I need to eat more, but should I eat more sugary things or more meat or what?" He was starting to ramble again, but that's alright, he does that stuff sometimes.

Ivan blinks and then shakes his head. As someone studying to eventually become a doctor, one of the many aspects included in health is nutrition. Matthew really knows how to make him worry sometimes, and more than that, doesn't know the right way to consume for health. Wetting his lips, he tries to consider how to say this correctly without sounding condescending in some way.

"Sugar is a simple carbohydrate, and they help you gain fat. Meat is a protein, and when coupled with exercise will help build muscle. You just don't eat enough, is all. You skip meals- To get to an 'average' size, I think you would just need to eat three meals a day. Don't change anything, just actually eat something. You're mal-nourished. You might also consider vitamins, but I'm not your doctor or anything."

Curious about the kid's body, now, and knowing he wasn't paying too much attention to everything when it was exposed, he unhooks himself. Firmly, he squeezes bicep, forearm, and rubs the pads of three fingers against chest, belly, and then down to outer thigh, gradually inside. Fat content in very low, but what appears to be there is meat, and that's good. Even fat would do, actually, because Matthew's body would have something to eat when he starved himself.

"When you're this thin and don't eat, your body searches for food- if it needs to, it'll break down organs that you need to function."

Matthew nodded his understanding as Ivan explained what he needed, making mental notes. He didn't think that he could eat three meals right now, but he could always nibble a little. It wouldn't be good to force himself to eat though.

"I'll try to eat more." Matthew promised, watching Ivan inspect his body thoroughly. It was oddly sterile, but at the same time personal. He handled his limbs gently, not pressing too hard or lingering around his crotch. It kind of relaxed him, though he kept careful watch of the other's movements.

His body eating itself sounded terrifying. He didn't want that to happen, as much as he wasn't able to eat much, he didn't want to waste away. The boy frowned lightly, looking up at Ivan. "But I never have an appetite..." He murmured, averting his eyes a bit. "What should I do then?" It wouldn't be right to subject Ivan to a boyfriend who didn't take care of himself, he would constantly be worried about him and even if it was very sweet and nice he didn't want him to always be afraid for him.

"I did eat a lot this morning though." He offered, as if he were a child telling a parent something that they should be proud about. Even if half of his waffles wasn't very much to others it was a lot to him, though a waste of maple.

His attention returns to Matthew's face and he smiles softly, apologizing under his breath for the tangent he'd gone on. It was important to him to view the boy as his significant other, and less as a patient who needs help. Although he has knowledge of the subject, he feels it would be awkward to put a clinical distance between them. If he did so, what else would Matthew fear he was analyzing?

"Hey, don't worry about it. You don't have to do things different right away. That's unrealistic. Just gradual- and if you're not hungry, just have a couple apple slices to keep your body going. They're mostly water but have carbohydrates in them for energy." Sifting the once-roaming hand into blonde hair, he strokes through golden strands and smiles. This was pleasant- he's been thinking that a lot recently- and he wonders if he'll be lucky enough for it to keep being like this.

"Don't get me wrong- I'm attracted to your body, but it's not why I like you. I like who you are, too, the more I get to see it. Shouldn't I be the one worried? You pretty much hated me until yesterday, it was a really sudden change." Chuckling, he settles with his back to the bed and closes his eyes.

"You're too scared of how I'm thinking about you, but you don't realize that I'm just a boy who's worrying about how you're thinking of me, too."

"But I do worry about it." Matthew said softly, unable to resist smiling as Ivan sank his fingers into his hair, stroking the soft locks gently. He never had his hair played with, and he loved it. And he did like apples...with maple syrup on them of course. Ah, there was the million dollar question.

"Well." Matthew began slowly, wanting to phrase this right. He didn't want Ivan to misinterpret his feelings for him. "You noticed me. You started out as a douche, forgive my language, but you turned out really caring and concerned. That's more than anyone's been for him in a long time. No one cares if I miss school or if I don't eat. They don't see me and don't remember I'm there. But you noticed me of your own accord and stood up against my father on my side. That's more than even I'm willing to do."

The boy shook his head, smiling faintly. "I feel like I have a lot more to live up to than you do. Look at you, you're handsome, popular, smart, caring. And even if you're slightly diabolical, you're still a genuinely good person. But when someone looks at me all they see is a skinny, invisible kid who can't stand up for himself. Hell, I can't even stop people from sitting on me at lunch."

"Then eat your favorite food just for the sake of caloric intake. Besides, once we get you out of that house, this trouble you're facing will practically disappear. It's not uncommon for someone to starve for the sake of calming anxiety. The problem is not your lack of eating, so much as your influx of anxiety." Realizing that he sounds like a textbook, he shrugs it away with a 'sorry' and a laugh. He really enjoys this stuff, he's always had an interest in helping people (even if he is kind of a malicious fuck, too).

"I wasn't asking why." Eyes opening, he rolls his head to the side to look the boy over.

"Honestly, I don't really care why you like me, so long as you do. I'm kind of fucked up, and if I could think of any way to make you look at me or like me more, I would take complete advantage of it." Shifting back onto one elbow, looking down at his new partner, he brushes his knuckles over cheek, then turns it and presses palm against it. More than having a like for Matthew, he has a possessive need to care for him as well.

"You don't have to be someone else, Matthew. If you want to change and 'improve', then by all means, that's up to you, but I like you just the way you are. I'll like you when you're healthier, and when you're less afraid, and I'll like you when you're throwing up because you tried to eat and your stomach disagreed. It's not going to change, and my 'type' will revolve around who you are at the time."

Tilting Matthew's chin to the side without bruise, he presses a kiss there.

Influx of anxiety? That sounded about right. He was constantly stressed at his house and around his father and it only increased after a fight. So it made sense that his body would try to ease his anxiety by not eating. But a favorite food? He supposed maple syrup didn't count as a food, so he wasn't sure what else he liked, he cooked a slim menu at his house because his father wouldn't let him experiment. "I'm not sure I know what my favorite food is..."

It wasn't like the school cafeteria, though better than his old public school by a long shot, was the best in the world, and most of it tasted like cardboard. Which, admittedly, was better than it tasting like sawdust. So he couldn't exactly say what his favorite food was. He'd never really gotten the opportunity to figure it out.

"I felt like explaining." Matthew smiled thinly, glad that Ivan didn't expect something complex of him. It was best to keep their relationship simple while it was starting out, or so he read. These little gestures of Ivan's, constantly touching him and stroking his skin, they were all so incredible, they made him feel welcomed and accepted and he never wanted him to stop touching him.

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Reviews are loved as always!


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